


I Can Hear You

by masquerade97



Series: I Can Hear You [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Asexual Castiel, Cas is hard of hearing, Fluff, John Winchester Not Being an Asshole, M/M, Minor Aaron Bass/Dean Winchester, Minor Aaron Bass/OFC, Minor Dorothy Baum/Charlie Bradbury, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Multiple Soulmates, Musician!Dean, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Rock Star Dean, Slow Build, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, Trauma, eventual destiel, synesthete!Dean, the supernatural books are a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:12:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 66,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5029705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masquerade97/pseuds/masquerade97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A person can hear their soulmate singing their favorite song in their mind, for better or worse. Dean and Cas hear each other's voices as they're growing up, even when they don't know that the other exists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is based on [this text post](http://me-sorta.tumblr.com/post/130787299330/clumsy-and-awkward-vampire-wtfasexual) on Tumblr.

Cas found Hannah at the car loop after school. He made sure to stay a few feet away from his sister, since she was still surrounded by her friends and he didn’t want to interrupt. When she noticed him, however, she waved for him to stand beside her. He did, but he stayed out of the conversation. It was boring anyway, all that talk about the project they were doing in her fifth grade class.

Instead of participating in his sister’s conversation, Cas scanned the cars waiting in line. He spotted a few of his friends as they approached their parents or passed on the way to the school buses. He caught their attention and waved to them, but not many of them had time to talk.

“There he is,” Hannah said, taking her little brother’s hand as she said good-bye to her friends. Cas spotted the car as Hannah led him to the far end of the line – their father’s black Fairmont station wagon.

“How was school?” Chuck asked as the kids climbed into the car.

“Good,” they chorused. Usually this was their answer.

“Good is good,” Chuck said, putting the car in first and pulling out of line, starting the Beatles cassette as he did so.

They made small talk on the way to home, mostly talking about what was going on in school and what plans there were for the weekend; Hannah wanted to go to a friend’s house to work on her project, Cas wanted to have Balthazar and Gabriel over.

“Daddy, can we listen to _Hey Jude_ again?” Cas asked abruptly when they were almost home.

“Again?” Chuck asked, glancing at his son in the rearview mirror. Despite the question, he changed the song.

“I like it,” Cas says, leaning his head against the window. Ever since he learned that the voice in his mind that had been singing the song over and over belonged to his soulmate, he listened to the song whenever he could. He’d been told the song would change as he and his soulmate grew up, but in his six years, there hadn’t yet been a change.

He idly wondered, as he often did, what song his soulmate heard in his head. Cas thought it must be hard to say, since Cas liked so many songs, and he isn’t sure which one is his favorite.

If he was being honest, he loved to just listen to his soulmate sing his song. Maybe that made _Hey Jude_ Cas’ favorite too.

“Daddy, what song did you hear when Mommy was here? The last one?” Cas asked, sitting up and watching his father expectantly in that serious way he had.

Chuck sighed, turning for a moment to glance at his son while he had the car stopped at a red light. “I heard a lot of songs,” he said gently. “You know that. She had many favorites over the years.”

“Oh,” Cas said, leaning back in his seat again, clearly disappointed at the lack of answer.

“Sometimes, you want to keep the songs to yourself,” Chuck tried to explain. “As a way to hold on to them.”

Cas still wasn’t sure he understood what the big deal was, but he didn’t ask for clarification. Instead, he turned to his older sister in the seat beside him. “What about you Hannah? What song do you hear?”

Hannah hesitated for a moment. “It’s a secret,” she said, shifting slightly in her seat so she was angled away from Castiel.

“How come?” Cas asked, his curiosity piqued.

“No reason,” Hannah said quietly.

Hannah never wanted to share what song was in her head, no matter how often Cas asked. That always struck Cas as odd, since she must have had a soulmate; everyone did; so she must have heard their voice. The other kids in Cas’ class would come in humming the songs in their minds, and sometimes he heard the older kids talking about the songs they heard.

Cas didn’t ask his dad too often, since his mom wasn’t around anymore. Cas wondered how that worked now; what did his dad hear if his soulmate was no longer among the living? He could tell that this wouldn’t be a welcome topic though, so if Cas asked he tried to stick with asking about songs his dad remembered hearing: which song did he hear when he was a kid; which song did he hear when he met his soulmate; which song did he hear when they were married, had children, on their first, fifth, tenth wedding anniversaries? The songs fascinated Cas, and hearing the variety his father had heard made him eager to find out what songs _he_ would hear.

So far, it was just _Hey Jude,_ but he could have listened to that voice singing it forever.

“Home again, home again,” Chuck said as he pulled the car into the driveway, clearly trying to dispel the tension that had arisen from Cas’ recent questions.

Cas didn’t need any further encouragement, and he jumped from the car almost before it was completely stopped.

“Cas!” Chuck said, exasperated.

Cas turned back to the car at the sound of his name, but he only paused for a moment before pulling his key from his pocket and entering the house.

“You _can_ wait until the car _stops,_ you know,” Hannah said when she and Chuck entered the house. Cas had already dropped his school bag in his room and had his hand on the door to the garage.

“I need to go to the library,” he said simply, turning the knob.

“It’s _Friday,_ ” Hannah said, probably a little too loudly, as she made her way to the stairs to her room.

“Just a minute Castiel,” Chuck said, putting a hand on Cas’ shoulder to still him. He squatted down so he was on eye level with his son. “Why do you need to go to the library on a Friday?”

“The school library doesn’t have what I want to know. I checked already,” Cas said simply.

Chuck narrowed his eyes and tilted his head curiously. “What do you want to know?”

Cas shifted uncomfortably. “There are…colors,” he said. “With the song.”

“Colors?” Chuck asked, confused. “You mean you see colors when you listen to music?”

“No,” Cas replied, shaking his head. “ _I_ don’t. But when I hear him singing, in my head, there are colors. I don’t know what it is.”

“Hm,” Chuck said. “That’s interesting.”

“I want to go to the library to see what it is. The school library didn’t have anything about it.”

“Alright,” Chuck said, standing up again. “Do you have money for a payphone? Just in case?”

Cas nodded eagerly, digging in his pocket and pulling out three dimes.

“Good,” Chuck said. “Dinner’s at six, so I want you back here by a quarter of.”

“Okay,” Cas said, grinning. That gave him just about two hours until he had to be back, so probably an hour and a half at the library. He turned back to the garage, pushing the button to open the door as he did so. He ran to the front to grab his bike, and as he walked it down the driveway, he turned to wave to his dad, who was watching him from the garage.

When Chuck waved back, Cas mounted his bike and pushed off. It wasn’t a long ride to the library; it was just a few blocks away; and when he arrived and walked inside, the librarian greeted him with a smile and asked if there was anything specific he needed help finding.

“Where can I find something that will tell me why there would be colors when you heard something?” he asked.

“Why…what?” the librarian asked. She sounded like she thought it must be some kind of joke, but when she saw that Cas’ face didn’t change from his serious expression, she seemed even more confused. “You see colors when you hear things?” she asked.

“No,” Cas said. “I don’t. But is there a book that would tell me why someone would?”

“Um, if there is, it would probably be classified in 500 with the Sciences, or in 150 with Psychology,” the librarian replied, a look of confusion on her face. She pointed in the direction of the sections she had mentioned. “They would be over there. Do you need any help finding a specific book?”

“No, thank you,” Cas said, turning in the direction the librarian had indicated. “I think I’ll just go look around.”

“Okay, well, let me know if you need help with anything else.”

“Thank you,” Cas said again, making his way to the shelves. He decided to start with Psychology, since the number was smallest and he could just work his way up.

There was a large selection of books in the library, and the Psychology section wasn’t much of an exception. Cas wasn’t sure which subsection might hold the information he was looking for, so he started at the beginning, grabbing a couple books at random and sitting on the floor in front of the shelf to sift through them. Mostly they were books on introductions to Psychology, which, while they didn’t directly have the information Cas was looking for, were exceedingly interesting, especially after Cas grabbed a dictionary so he could look up the words he didn’t know.

A glance at the clock showed that Cas had spent far longer on the intro books than he had planned, so he put them back and moved to the next few, but not before promising himself he’d be back to read through them again sometime.

The intro books had mentioned perception and sensation, and Cas thought that was closer to what he needed, so he moved down the row until he found books that were numbered with 152. There, he found much more about the psychology of sight and sound and various other sensations and perceptions, but he still felt as if he was falling short. Another glance at the clock showed he only had about half an hour before he had to leave.

The lack of answers was frustrating, but Cas couldn’t find himself being angry over the lack of information; it was all too fascinating.

 _One more book,_ he told himself. _Then I’ll come back next week._

Since he was now sure he would continue to come back, he wasn’t particularly worried about finding exactly what he was looking for. He was sure he would find it at some point. With that in mind, he picked up another book from the perception section and thumbed through it, skimming the information on the pages.

Suddenly, something caught his eye: “Synesthesia (also spelled synaesthesia, or syæsthesia) is a neurological phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory of cognitive pathway.”

That sounded right. Certainly closer than anything else he’d come across. The page went on to list several different kinds, and Cas read through the list and turned the page to one that sounded like what he heard in his head: “Chromesthesia, or sound-to-color synesthesia, is a type of synesthesia in which heard sounds automatically and involuntarily evoke an experience of color.”

Now _that_ was it.

And it was endlessly fascinating.

It explained why Cas would see a pattern of colors when he heard his soulmate singing, since it meant he perceived a different color with each sound or tone or pitch or timbre. And since the perceptions were directly linked, whatever connected him with Cas would allow Cas to perceive both.

There wasn’t any information listed on how the condition affected soulmates, or at least none that he could find, which really wasn’t saying much since he wasn’t must further than the general description when he looked up at the clock and realized he should have left five minutes ago.

Cas hurriedly put the volume back and replaced the dictionary. He waved to the librarian as he left and fumbled with his bike lock for a moment before he mounted the bike and pedaled as fast as he could, though he still didn’t make it back in the house until five past six.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Cas panted as soon as he got in the dining room. “I tried to be on time.”

“Alright alright, five minutes isn’t bad,” Chuck said, gesturing for Cas to go wash his hands before taking a seat.

Cas scrubbed his hands hurriedly before taking his seat at the table and accepting his portion.

“I hope you found what you were looking for,” Hannah said, but her voice held a hint of sarcasm, earning her a pointed look from her father.

Unfortunately, Cas wasn’t well versed in sarcasm.

“I did!” Cas said excitedly, starting on his dinner.

“Yeah? What did you find?” Chuck asked.

“It’s Synesthesia. It makes sound look like colors.”

That was a stretch of silence in which Hannah and their father exchanged a confused look before Hannah asked, “What?”

Cas looked up from his dinner, his eyes moving between his sister and his father. “There’s something in a person’s brain that makes them perceive colors when they hear certain things,” he explained. Then he seemed to think better of it and added, “Well, Chromesthesia does that. Synesthesia does a bunch of different stuff.”

“That’s a lot to remember,” Chuck said, trying not to sound too baffled.

“It’s interesting,” Cas said with a shrug, taking another bite of his food.

“But how do you remember all that?” Hannah asked.

“I don’t know,” Cas said, furrowing his brow and shifting uncomfortably.

“How does it work?” Chuck asked, trying to deflect from Hannah’s question.

“No one knows,” Cas said. “But regular people associate sounds with colors too, so it doesn’t make sense why some people just see them all the time.”

“Interesting,” Chuck said. “So you see it with the song in your head?”

“Only the one he’s singing to me,” Cas clarified.

“That’s…actually pretty cool,” Hannah said quietly.

*~*~*~*~*

Dean wished Sam would just grow up already.

Seriously, what good was having a little brother if he wasn’t even big enough to play catch yet?

Though Dean supposed two-year-old Sammy was better than baby Sammy. It hadn’t been fun waking up to hear his baby brother crying in the middle of the night, especially since the sound was associated with a bright orange in Dean’s mind, and that wasn’t a pleasant color to wake up to at two in the morning.

Almost every sound had a color: engines tended to be red; his mom’s humming as she did her work around the house was blue; different notes and chords in songs created different splashes of colors. It hadn’t been until about a year ago though that Dean had learned that not everyone saw colors in their mind’s eye when they heard something. The revelation came as a bit of a shock, since it was hard for Dean to imagine a world in which sounds were just sounds.

The only sounds that didn’t have colors were the sounds of the thoughts in Dean’s own mind. He could think whatever he wanted without seeing swirls of color in his vision. This also led to the fact that his soulmate’s singing wasn’t accompanied by colors. And what a relief it was to hear a voice in his mind, other than his own, that was a blank canvas. Even though he was curious as to what color that particular voice would conjure up when it hit his ears.

“What song do you hear, Sammy?” Dean asked his brother as they played in the backyard.

Sam didn’t look up from what he was doing, and indeed didn’t seem to be paying attention to what Dean said at all.

“I hear _Hey Jude,_ ” Dean continued anyway. “There was another song before it, but I was too small to remember that one.”

“Sam! Dean!” Mary called from the house, causing pink to flash in Dean’s mind.

The brothers looked up at the sound of their names to see their mother beckoning them back to the house. “Dinnertime!”

Dean stood and took his brother’s hand, helping him up and leading him back to the house.

“Go get cleaned up,” Mary said to Dean as they entered. She picked Sam up to get him washed up and strapped into his high chair while Dean washed his hands in the kitchen sink.

“I’m home,” said a voice from the front door.

“Dad!” Dean said, hurriedly drying his hands and running to meet his father.

“Hey kiddo,” John said, scooping Dean into his arms, making the boy giggle. “How’s your day?”

“Good,” Dean said.

“Good,” John said, glancing back down the hall as Mary approached them with Sam on her hip. “And how was your day?”

“My day was just fine,” Mary said, leaning in to kiss her husband’s cheek. “Now go wash up. You smell like the shop.”

John rolled his eyes good-naturedly and set Dean back on his feet. “I’ll be in in a minute.”

When John joined them at the dinner table a few minutes later, Dean was going on about what he’d done in school that day with Jo while Sam played with his food.

“Sounds like you had an eventful day,” John said when Dean finally had to pause to actually get a bite of his dinner.

Dean shrugged. “Not really. I just like playing with Jo.”

“Yeah?” John asked. “Jo’s a nice girl.”

“How was your day, John?” Mary interjected. She knew John loved his sons, but sometimes he needed to let it go that Dean referred to his soulmate as ‘he’ and not ‘she,’ and right now Mary wasn’t in the mood for John to turn the conversation to Jo.

“My day was alright,” John said, shifting his gaze to his wife. “Only one car really gave us trouble, but we got it sorted out.”

“What about your car, dad?” Dean asked. “Did you get the weird noise fixed?”

“No, there was something a little funny about that,” John said, turning back to Dean. “Bobby said it seemed like there was something shoved down in the vents on the dashboard.”

Dean squirmed in his seat.

“You know anything about that?” John asked.

“Well,” Dean started, “you were in the garage, and I was just playing with the legos in the car, and-“

“Dean,” John interrupted. Dean looked up at his father with wide eyes, but John just smiled warmly at the six-year-old. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

“You’re…not?”

“Nah, it’s not that big a deal,” John said as he leaned back and took another bite of his dinner. “Gives the car character, don’t you think?”

Dean blinked at his father for a moment, trying to discern if this was a joke or not, but when John smiled at him, Dean grinned back before continuing his dinner.

“That won’t hurt the car?” Mary asked quietly, when Dean was saying something to Sam, who was watching him intently.

“Not enough to make a difference,” John replied. “As long as you don’t mind a little rattling when you turn the heat on.”


	2. Chapter 2

The only time Cas wished he could turn the volume down on the voice in his mind was when he was at school.

Academics were never difficult for Cas, but they had a tendency to be on the boring side. And there was nothing worse that tuning out his teacher and having another voice clog his thoughts. Not that the other voice was intrusive in any way (often it was quietly singing to itself in the back of his mind), but when teachers wanted nothing more than to hear themselves speak, Cas would inevitably let his mind wander.

Right now he was staring at a test in his eleventh grade English class and not reading a word of what was on the page. It was the end of the day on the Thursday before a long weekend, and _of course_ the teacher had decided to schedule a test that day. Cas figured it must be her way of making sure everyone showed up to class, though it hadn’t worked; only about three-quarters of the class were present.

He shook himself back to the present and tried reading again. Unfortunately, he read the first line three times before he could even focus enough to understand what he read, and by that time he was already bored enough that he zoned out again.

Cas was vaguely aware that the teacher was walking between the rows of desks, but he was too busy staring at the corner of his desktop to really process the information.

Just before she got to Cas’ desk, Balthazar, who was seated in the desk directly to Cas’ right, knocked his pencil to the ground and used it as an excuse to lean over and bump into Cas. Cas shook out of his daze to glare at his friend, which earned him an exasperated look from the other boy. When Cas noticed the teacher walking down the rows, he quickly reorganized and forced himself to be reading instead of doodling on the corner of his answer sheet. She probably noticed, but she moved on with her only reaction being a dirty look in Cas’ direction.

“She’ll probably eat your soul one of these days,” Balthazar said when they started down the hall after class. “Would you _please_ not be so obvious about not doing your work?”

“She won’t eat my _soul,_ Balthazar,” Cas said, looking up at the ceiling as if looking for some kind of answer to drop out of the sky.

“You never know. She could be some kind of demon in disguise.”

Cas bit back a laugh. “Right, the woman who wears a cross around her neck is a demon.”

“I’m trying to save your soul and all I get is sass,” Balthazar sighed. “What a shame.”

“Did you want some kind of reward?” Cas asked, glancing at his friend out of the corner of his eye. He spotted their bus at the front of the school and started toward it.

Balthazar frowned and shrugged with a slight nod. “A thank you would be nice. Some kind of insight as to what’s going on in that head of yours would be welcome as well.”

“I assure you, what’s going on in my head isn’t very interesting.”

“Interesting enough to keep you distracted enough to risk getting your soul eaten by Naomi Tapping,” Balthazar countered as they got on the bus and took their seats in the middle.

“Tapping actually tried to eat his soul?” Gabriel piped up from the seat in front of them. He stood on his knees on the seat so he could see over the back and talk to them.

“Not yet,” Balthazar answered in his most concerned voice. He put his hand on Cas’ shoulder. “I think he’s in danger though.”

“Eat me,” Cas said, though he was trying to fight a smile off his face.

“She almost caught him daydreaming again,” Balthazar continued in his mock-serious tone, as if Cas hadn’t spoken up.

Gabriel whistled. “Listening to your better half again?” he asked.

“Shut up Gabriel,” Cas said, but he looked away.

“I knew it! What’s he singing this time?”

“Get over yourself.”

Gabriel pouted, but he let it go. “Fine, I’ll ask Balthazar instead,” he said, turning to face the other boy.

“I have no idea what I’m listening to,” Balthazar said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Well aren’t you two just wonderful conversationalists.”

“Don’t hurt yourself on big words, Gabriel,” Cas said with a smirk.

“Fuck you too, Cas,” Gabriel said, but he didn’t sound offended.

“Why, what do you hear?” Balthazar asked.

Gabriel tilted his head for a moment, as if listening to something in the distance. “One is an old pop kind of song, and the other sounds like rock,” he said wistfully.

Cas and Balthazar exchanged a look. “One…and the other?” Cas asked. “That’s possible?”

“Apparently,” Gabriel said with a shrug. He sounded pleased with himself.

“So you have _two_ soulmates?” Balthazar asked.

“That’s my guess, yeah,” Gabriel said.

“Why didn’t you mention this before?” Cas asked.

Gabriel shrugged. “Never seemed like important information. Besides, one didn’t show up until recently. I think he must like instrumentals or something.”

“Leave it to Gabriel to get the two-for-one special,” Balthazar said jokingly.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and turned to sit back down when the bus started rolling.

Cas stared out the window for most of the trip home, turning over what Gabriel had said. He’d always thought people only had one soulmate, though he couldn’t really claim to be an expert on the subject. But the implication would be that some people _didn’t_ have soulmates. What would that person hear?

Then a different thought crossed his mind. Did Hannah not have a soulmate? As long as he could remember, his sister had avoided all mention of the voice in her head. If she was asked, she would say she wanted it to be private, or she would dodge the subject in that quiet, skillful way she had. Cas decided he’d bring it up next time she was home from college.

“ _Cas!_ ”

Cas turned at find an exasperated Balthazar staring at him.

“You have _got_ to teach me how to tune out like that,” Balthazar said.

“What do you want?” Cas asked. They were almost to his stop.

“Just making sure you’re still planning on coming to the game with us tomorrow.”

Cas sighed. “Yes, I’m still coming,” he said. He wasn’t much of a football fan, but Balthazar and Gabriel liked to go to hang out with their friends, and they insisted that Cas come to a game, just once.

“Good,” Balthazar said. “I’m driving.”

*~*~*~*~*

Dean was just glad his soulmate could sing worth a damn.

When he went for his guitar lessons, he could hear some of the vocal lessons going on in other rooms, and he cringed to think of hearing some of them in his head all day every day. Of course, they got better as they learned, but Dean didn’t want to think of being trapped with the ‘before’ bouncing around in his skull. It didn’t even matter that there wouldn’t have been any obnoxiously loud and unpleasant colors to go with them in his head; the sound would be repellant enough. Unfortunately, he didn’t think he was particularly good either, so he tended to make himself feel down when he thought about his voice circulating around someone else’s mind.

“But you’re a _good_ singer,” Sam said one night. Dean was practicing in the spare room after school with Sam sitting cross-legged on the floor. Dean had just finished running through one song and had apologized in a sheepish tone for his lack-luster singing skills. “You could be, like, a rock star or something.”

“I don’t know about that Sammy,” Dean said, ducking his head, embarrassed.

“Why not?” Sam asked. “You and Aaron and Jo could start a band. They’re good too.”

“I know they’re good,” Dean said. And he did. There wasn’t much to do in their small town, and they’d all turned to some kind of music to keep them entertained. Sometimes they practiced together, but that didn’t exactly get Sam off his back about starting a band.

“So why not?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. It’d be weird,” Dean replied, strumming absently at the strings, sending sparks of color in his mind’s eye.

“No it wouldn’t.”

Damn Sammy was a stubborn kid. “What makes you say that?”

“People listen to you guys when you practice in the garage. And when you play at school, everyone loves it.”

“That’s at school. They have to love it.”

“No they don’t.”

“You’re right. They have to _pretend_ to love it, which is worse.”

Sam rolled his eyes and Dean smirked at him. “You’re _good_ Dean,” Sam said in an exasperated tone.

“Sure, but not great.”

Now Sam was making one of those faces he made when he thought someone was being ridiculous. Somewhere between ‘are you insane’ and ‘go fuck yourself.’ “You won’t even _try_?” he asked.

Dean sighed. “If I bring it up to them, will you stop nagging me?”

“Maybe,” Sam said, but he was grinning. “It’s a long weekend.”

“I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“Probably not.”

Dean shook his head, but there was a slight smile on his lips. “Fine. Aaron’s coming over to practice tomorrow afternoon anyway. I’ll bring it up then.” He looked back down at his guitar to readjust for the next song.

“What about Jo?” Sam asked.

Dean shrugged as he started strumming. “They’re going out of town this weekend. I’ll see her again on Monday.”

“You’d better ask her,” Sam said, just as their mother entered the room.

“Who are we asking?” she wondered aloud.

“Dean and Aaron and Jo are going to start a band,” Sam said, cutting Dean off before he could say anything.

“That sounds nice,” Mary said.

“We’re not starting a band,” Dean said in an annoyed tone. At the dirty look from Sam and the warning look from his mother, he amended, “Sam wants us to start a band. We haven’t actually talked about it.”

“They’re totally starting a band,” Sam said to their mother.

Dean wondered if he had been that intolerable when _he_ was twelve. He hoped not.

“Well, rock stars, it’s almost time for dinner. Go get washed up,” Mary said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to leave a warning for you here:  
> There is a car accident in this chapter. Someone dies (briefly), but everyone DOES survive the event. The trauma and injuries will be dealt with.  
> I wanted to make sure you were aware of this.

“I just don’t see the appeal,” Cas said. He was sitting on the bleachers with Balthazar and Gabriel, and he had taken a break from the conversation to try to decipher what was going on out on the field.

“That’s because you’re trying to _watch_ the game,” Gabriel said. He clapped a hand on Cas’ shoulder from his seat on the row above him. “Football’s the only big event in the fall, but it’s not very exciting.”

Cas looked up at his friends, who were doing more socializing than watching. They were only looking at the field every few minutes, usually when they heard the rest of the crowd cheering and wanted to see what the commotion was about.

“So you come and sit in the cold instead of meeting somewhere warm? Like the mall? Or the movies? Or the arcade? Like normal people?” Cas asked.

“It’s the atmosphere,” Balthazar chimed in. “Live a little Cassie.”

Cas drew his brows in annoyance. “It’s _cold,_ ” Cas said, drawing his jacket closer around himself pointedly and shrugging Gabriel’s hand off his shoulder.

“If you expected something else from Connecticut this late in the year, you need to get to Florida or something,” Gabriel said with a smirk.

“It’s not even that cold,” Balthazar said. He was lounging back on the bleachers in a long sleeve shirt and jeans, without even a windbreaker.

“Bite me,” Cas said, resigning himself to being an icicle until the game ended. Luckily they had finally made it to the fourth quarter.

The night really wasn’t too cold, but sitting around doing nothing didn’t exactly do the chill any favors. A brisk breeze picked up every so often and ruffled Cas’ already unruly dark hair. The breeze would steal the warmth that Cas had built up within his light jacket just as he was starting to feel comfortable.

The game finally ended just before eleven, and even though he was tired and chilled through, Cas couldn’t say he hadn’t enjoyed himself.

He slid into the backseat of Balthazar’s car, making himself comfortable in the seat behind the driver. Gabriel climbed into the passenger seat just as Balthazar was starting the engine.

Cas was content to lean on the door with his eyes closed as they drove back. He didn’t sleep; it was far more interesting to listen to Gabriel and Balthazar. Besides, even if he had wanted to sleep, they were talking too loudly for Cas to lose consciousness.

“You know you two talk too loud for your own good?” Cas asked when there was a break in the conversation in front of him. He had felt the car slow and assumed they were now stopped at a red light.

Cas heard a shift in the passenger seat ahead of him before Gabriel’s voice said, “Sorry, were you trying to sleep?”

“Not really,” Cas replied, opening his eyes. He stretched and tried to rearrange himself while the car was still stopped. Balthazar had a habit of accelerating quickly, which made shifting one’s position slightly more difficult than usual. “But that doesn’t mean you two don’t talk too loud.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and faced forward again as the light turned green.

Balthazar jumped off the line as he usually did, half a second after the light changed. Cas went back to looking out the window in time to see a second car barrel toward them from the crossroad and crash into Balthazar’s rear end, just behind the door.

*~*~*~*~*

Dean and Aaron stayed late in the garage after dinner. It was almost ten, so their instruments weren’t connected to the amps, which meant that their strings gave off hollow tinny sounds instead of warm mellow notes.

“I don’t know, it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea,” Aaron said thoughtfully. He was staring at the wall, lost in his own mind for the moment as his idle strumming set washes of grey swimming in Dean’s mind.

“You’re serious,” Dean said after a moment of consideration. He had thought at first that maybe Aaron was messing with him, but the look on his face said otherwise.

“Sure I’m serious. We don’t suck,” Aaron pointed out. “We play all the time anyway.”

Dean couldn’t seem to wipe the disbelief off his face. “You’re siding with Sam over me?”

Aaron shrugged. “He’s not wrong is all I’m saying,” he said. His voice was calm in the way he knew would keep Dean from losing his cool. “At the very least, we can bring it up to Jo when she gets back and see what she says.” Aaron kept his voice diplomatic as he watched Dean for any kind of reaction. Dean looked like he was trying to find a way out. “Do you not want to do it?” Aaron asked.

Dean hesitated. “I…don’t know,” he admitted. “Sure, I want to, but I don’t know if I _want_ to, you know?”

A smile played on Aaron’s lips. “Yeah, I get it,” he replied.

Dean let out a sigh of relief, releasing tension he hadn’t realized he was holding.

A comfortable silence descended over them. They picked absentmindedly at their strings, each a different song. If the amps had been on, the clash probably would have been jarring, but with just the hollow grey melodies the difference couldn’t be easily distinguished.

Sam wandered in at some point, not playing anything, just listening, even though there wasn’t much to listen to.

“What are you playing?” Sam finally asked. Dean glanced up and noticed the question had been directed at Aaron, which wasn’t a surprise; lately whenever Dean played with his mind wandering, it was the song his soulmate was singing (he made it a point to learn all of them).

“ _Here Comes the Sun_. It was my mom’s favorite song,” Aaron said. He didn’t usually talk about his parents, since he lived with his grandfather.

Dean paused his playing to listen. Aaron really was good. Maybe a band _wouldn’t_ be such a bad idea.

“I wish I could play _Hey Jude_ ,” Sam said wistfully. “That’s mom’s favorite.”

“I know that one,” Aaron said, stopping his strumming. “Come here, I’ll show you.”

Sam jumped up from his seat and practically ran to Aaron’s side of the garage, even though he was only about ten feet away. Aaron lifted his guitar strap off his shoulder and settled it on Sam’s when Sam took a seat.

Dean started strumming again as he watched Aaron teach Sam. _Hey Jude_ scraped into the air, sometimes a comprehensive string of two or three notes, sometimes wailing like nails on a chalkboard. Dean was grateful the amps were off; otherwise he was sure he’d have to leave for the obnoxious colors that would swarm him.

His fingers idly picked out _Jailhouse Rock_ , the song coming alive on the dull notes as the voice in Dean’s mind sang it in an almost shy tone. Dean found himself humming along quietly, listening in his mind for every change in the voice.

And then there wasn’t a voice.

Dean’s fingers fumbled the notes, creating a sound that was so horrendous that Aaron and Sam both stopped their own strumming and looked up at Dean. Dean almost never fumbled, and when he did, he always brushed it off with a shrug or a self-deprecating laugh and replayed the section he’d messed up. Now his hands seemed to die on the instrument, not even really holding it anymore.

“Dean?” Sam asked, his voice somewhere between concerned and frightened. He’d never seen Dean look so upset in his life. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Dean couldn’t make himself speak. “I-I don’t…” Now, instead of silence, there was humming. Nonsensical humming that didn’t follow a rhythm or tune in any way. The notes rose and fell of their own accord, but Dean could tell it was the same voice.

He knew what this meant. His grandmother Deanna had talked about it after her husband Samuel died. She said she didn’t hear him singing anymore, but she could hear him humming to her.

“No,” Dean said, barely above a whisper. He felt as if someone had ripped open his chest and torn a piece of him out.

“Dean.”

Aaron and Sam were beside him now; Sam standing beside him with a cautious hand on his shoulder; Aaron was kneeling in front of him to try to meet Dean’s downcast eyes, a hand on Dean’s knee.

“He’s- I can’t… I think he…m-might be,” Dean started, but there were tears in his eyes. He scrubbed at the tears before they could fall and sniffed, trying to force himself to calm down. “He’s not…singing. Anymore,” he choked out. He hated that his voice broke on the last word. It was stupid; he’d never actually met his soulmate, so why was it hurting him so much that the anonymous owner of the voice had died?

“Go get your mom,” Aaron said quietly.

Sam nodded and ran back into the house, calling out as he went.

Aaron shifted so he was sitting beside Dean instead of kneeling in front of him. “You can be upset, Dean,” Aaron said.

Dean shook his head even as more tears welled in his eyes. He had his jaw clenched painfully tight to try to hold in his sobs, but even so, a few escaped him.

Aaron put his arms around Dean and pulled him close. Dean tried to protest, but he was too upset; instead, Dean buried his face in Aaron’s shoulder.

*~*~*~*~*

“Cas!”

Gabriel had made it through the accident with only a bruise on his arm and whiplash from the sudden change in direction.

When the car had been spun around by the impact, Balthazar’s side had hit the tail end of the offending car, resulting in the dislocation of Balthazar’s shoulder and several minor cuts and bruises.

Cas was still in the car.

“Cas!” Gabriel yelled again. Both cars had come to a stop and he’d immediately jumped out, since his door was still usable. He had run straight to Cas’ side and was trying to get some kind of reaction. The force of impact had sent their car skidding to the corner, where it had collided with a light post. The car’s rear end was useless, and something had fallen from the post to dent the roof between the front and rear seats.

It was a miracle the car hadn’t flipped.

Balthazar managed to scoot across the seat to exit via the passenger door, since his was bent shut.

Even at this late hour, there were people on the sidewalk, called out from the 24/7 diner on the corner and the apartment complex down the street. Thankfully, no one had been out on the sidewalk when the accident had happened.

Already, sirens wailed in the distance.

“Come on Cas!” Gabriel yelled. He banged on the door, which was bent and broken so badly that Gabriel shuddered to think of what Cas must look like. He tried to ignore the blood he could make out on the upholstery of the backseat.

Suddenly there was movement. It was only slight, but Gabriel noticed.

Balthazar walked up then, limping noticeably. His good hand was gripping his dislocated arm painfully. His face was pale. “Shit. He’s okay, right?” he asked weakly. His eyes were glued to the destroyed door; his impression of the wreck seemed to be as bad Gabriel’s.

“He doesn’t have a fucking choice,” Gabriel said. The window hadn’t shattered, but there were enough cracks in it to make the view next to impossible to make out. “Cas, you’d better get your ass moving!”

“Gabriel, what if-“

“No!” Gabriel shouted, rounding on Balthazar. “Don’t fucking dare! He’ll be fine!”

Balthazar shrunk back, his eyes downcast. Tears were running down his face. He looked terrified. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. He looked like he was trying to fold in on himself. “Shit, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Gabriel said, trying to keep his voice even. He said it as much for himself as Balthazar. He turned back to the car, jerking on the handle even though he knew it was pointless. “Get your ass moving Castiel,” Gabriel said weakly.

Again there was movement from inside the car. It was feeble, a hand making a half-hearted grab at the door, as if to take hold of the handle.

Gabriel froze. “Did you see that?” he asked. A look at Balthazar showed that the other boy was too upset to notice much of anything. The word ‘shock’ registered somewhere in Gabriel’s mind, but it was meaningless to him at the moment.

The sirens were suddenly deafening as two ambulances, a police cruiser, and a small firetruck pulled into the intersection.

But Gabriel was sure he’d seen something move. He pulled at the door again, and he thought he felt it move. Some part of him wanted to get Cas out before the medics came over, but he didn’t know why. “Cas, dammit, come on! They’re here to help, you have to come out.”

Someone had a hand on Gabriel’s arm then. Gabriel wrested his arm away and pulled at the door handle as much as he could.

“Come on kid, you have to let us get to him,” a voice said. Gabriel assumed it was the one attached to the hand.

“No! You don’t understand; that’s my friend!” Gabriel exclaimed, looking up at the man beside him.

“We’ll get him out,” the man said. His voice was calm.

How did he do that? How did he stay so collected when _Cas_ – innocent, quiet, level-headed _Cas_ – was trapped in the backseat of a wrecked car?

“He’s my _friend_ ,” Gabriel said again, though he wasn’t sure why.

“We’ll get to him,” the man said. His voice was deep and reassuring, not betraying a hint of anxiety.

They were joined by others, and Gabriel saw that they had some kind of tool that they were using to cut at the door. He didn’t see much, though. Someone had a hand on his arm and was half-leading, half-dragging him to one of the ambulances. Gabriel tried to get away from the grip, but when he couldn’t he resigned himself to following. He noticed Balthazar sitting on the bumper of the ambulance with his arm in a sling and a blank look on his face.

“I’m _fine,_ ” Gabriel insisted, trying to see around the medic who was blocking his view. He saw the other car – the front end was totally smashed, and the medics had already cut the driver out and covered the body with a sheet until they could get a gurney out to him. “Do you see anything?” he asked, turning to look at Balthazar, who seemed to have been checked out by the medics already and was staring in the direction of the wreck as the medic forced Gabriel to sit still so he could take his vitals.

“CPR,” was all Balthazar said. His voice was numb. He felt numb. This was his fault. If he hadn’t jumped the gun as soon as the light changed, or if he hadn’t tried so hard to get Cas to come to the football game tonight. If he had taken another way home. If they had left five minutes earlier. If, if, if. Cas would be okay.

“What do you mean, CPR?” Gabriel asked. Balthazar thought he sounded angry, but maybe he was just scared.

“They got Cas out. They have him on the ground. They’re doing CPR,” Balthazar elaborated. He felt flat. It should be him on the ground. This was his fault. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Gabriel said. For the first time since he got out of the car, his voice wavered.

Balthazar noticed.

The medic in front of them had pulled a pen and pad of paper from one of his pockets. “I need you to give me your parents’ numbers,” he said gently. “We need to call them to let them know you’re okay.”

Balthazar didn’t even look at him; his eyes were glued to Cas on the ground. They had a machine next to him now, with little wires attached to it that were attached to flat pieces. He watched as they shocked his friend.

Gabriel took the pad and pen with shaking hands and wrote his name and number down. He glanced up at Balthazar and decided it was best to write his information for him. He went ahead and wrote Cas’ too, telling the medic that Cas was the one they were trying to save. His voice cracked.

Balthazar noticed a flatbed tow truck pull into the intersection. It was big, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. He didn’t care about the car. If Cas was okay, he’d be okay. As long as Cas made it.

A medic next to Cas checked for a pulse after a shock, and Balthazar and Gabriel heard him say, “We have a pulse, let’s get him up.”

The medic who had taken care of Gabriel and Balthazar ushered them into the ambulance. “It’s going to be crowded,” he warned. “We usually only have one other person besides the patient, but we won’t leave you here.”

Balthazar heard the unspoken sentence as well. _We won’t make you ride with the other driver._ It didn’t make him feel any better. Luckily he seemed to have gotten out of talking to the police for now.

When the gurney carrying Cas was loaded into the ambulance, along with two medics, it was incredibly crammed. Balthazar and Gabriel were huddled on the bench on the wall of the ambulance, trying to stay out of the way, almost sitting on top of each other. There was a medic at Cas’ head and one at his midriff. The medic who had seen to Gabriel and Balthazar sat in the passenger seat, using the car phone to dial the numbers Gabriel had given him to let their parents know where they were going. The driver had the lights and sirens on.

Balthazar felt panic spreading through him as the ambulance sped down the deserted road. He grabbed for Gabriel’s hand, not caring how it looked.

Gabriel was finally feeling the effects of the wreck. He was sore, and his head and neck hurt. He let Balthazar hold his hand, since it seemed to help him cope with being in a car. But from where he was sitting, he could see Cas’ torso, and it wasn’t a sight he wanted to remember.

At least Cas’ chest was moving.

*~*~*~*~*

For three minutes, Dean just heard humming. When his parents came into the garage, he wanted to hide. He didn’t want to see their pitying looks.

But when his mother crossed the space between them and held him to her, he felt safe, even with the torment in his head. Not only could he not hear the voice he’d grown accustomed to, but his sobs were sending horrible muted colors into his brain.

John crossed to his son with tears in his eyes. He’d seen Dean hurt when the boy had skinned his knee learning to ride a bike, or when he’d broken his arm when he fell out of the tree in the backyard when he was eight, but he’d _never_ seen him (or almost anyone else, for that matter) look so broken.

Dean felt his father’s presence beside him, felt the warmth of a hand on his back, rubbing small circles to try to comfort him. “Dean, I’m sorry,” his father said, like it was the only thing he could think to say.

Aaron was still next to him, and Sam had come to sit in front of him. It was odd, but Dean figured he must have felt a little better. At least he still had this family.

Silence followed, and Dean just heard humming.

But then, at intervals, the humming was replaced by a weak voice.

Dean was silent as he listened. He held his breath so he wouldn’t imagine anything.

The voice gained traction. It was still nowhere near what it had been, but it was there, and it wasn’t going anywhere. At least for now.

Dean let his breath out in a mangled sob that scratched his throat. Then he laughed. The tension drained out of him, turned to relief.

After a moment, he realized he was whispering, “He’s okay,” over and over. “I can hear him. He’s okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again as a warning, this chapter deals with some pretty heavy stuff as the aftermath of the previous chapter.  
> Also, I don't know how accurate this chapter is as far as technicalities of how a hospital runs, so bear with me.

Chuck was sitting up in bed, reading a book as he waited for Cas to get home.

When the phone rang, he assumed it was Cas, calling to say he was going to be late. No one else would have called so late.

“Hello?” Chuck answered, still half-reading his book; he expected something about overtime or going to dinner after the game.

“Hello. I’m calling for a Mr. Shurley?”

Chuck started at the unexpected voice. “Speaking,” he said, his book now lying open on his lap. His brow was furrowed in confusion, and he had tightened his grip on the phone without realizing it.

“Mr. Shurley, your son Castiel has been in a car accident,” the voice said. Chuck felt arguments and demands building in his throat, but the voice cut him off before he could voice any of them. “We’re taking him to the Children’s Medical Center on Washington.”

“Is he okay?” Chuck asked. He felt mild panic welling up at the base of his spine.

“He’s stable.”

“Is. He. Okay,” Chuck repeated. Stable wasn’t good enough.

“He’s stable, sir,” the voice repeated. “We’ll be at the hospital in just a minute, and we’ll get him checked in when we arrive.”

So he wasn’t going to get any answers. There were voices in the background, and Chuck concentrated for a moment, trying to make them out.

“Sir?”

“Yes, I’m here,” Chuck said, realizing he hadn’t heard whatever the man on the other end had been saying.

“What name should we have for you?”

“Chuck. Uh, Charles, Shurley. You’re sure he’s okay?”

“He’s stable, sir. We’ll have him checked in shortly.”

There was a click when the man on the other end hung up.

Chuck sat on his bed with the phone to his ear for a full minute before he recovered enough to put it down. At some point his book had fallen to the floor.

“Okay,” he said to himself, taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together long enough to be productive. “Okay, just get to the hospital. Go from there.”

He forced himself to put on a pair of jeans before he left.

He fumbled the keys off their hook. When he swiped at the door handle, his hand was shaking so badly it took him a few tries to get a grip on it and pull the door open.

“Deep breath, deep breath,” Chuck said, trying to hold himself together. He pushed the button to open the garage door and fumbled to get the car into reverse. When he reached the end of the driveway, he closed the garage door and tried to rush the car into first, making it whine and die.

Chuck took a deep breath and restarted the engine. He concentrated on his movements and managed to shift the car into first. He only stalled the car once on the way to the hospital. He considered that a win for how much he was trying not to shake.

Parking was easy enough at this late hour, since most of the cars in the lot belonged to the doctors and nurses who were working. One ambulance was still parked outside with the lights flashing silently.

Chuck nervously ran a hand through his hair as he walked up to the door.

The main room was a sterile white, but the woman behind the counter was polite when she greeted him.

“Are you here about the accident?” she asked gently when he had checked in.

“Yes,” Chuck said with a nod. “My son, he was-” His voice cracked and took a breath to collect himself.

“I understand, sir,” the woman said. She pushed a button in front of her and continued, “Please have a seat.”

“No, my son-”

“Someone will be here shortly to take you to him,” the woman said. Her voice was still calm and patient, as if she was trying to comfort a wounded animal.

“Do you know what happened?” Chuck asked. He knew it was a long shot, but he needed to have some kind of information.

“I don’t,” she replied. “I was only informed that there had been an accident and that visitors would be arriving for those involved.”

Chuck nodded resignedly, making his way to the plain grey chairs and flopping into one. He sat with his head in his hands and tried to think positively. He’d been called here to retrieve his son, not to identify his body. He knew Cas was being taken care of. At least, he hoped that was what the receptionist had meant when she said someone would take him to his son.

He only had to wait another two minutes until Gabriel’s mother arrived, and Balthazar’s parents were there just a minute later.

Someone came by five minutes later to let them know that their children were being taken care of, but it would be some time before they could go back.

The nurse arrived to take them to their sons an hour later.

*~*~*~*~*

As soon as the ambulance pulled up to the hospital, the back doors flew open and Cas was taken inside before Balthazar had even fully registered that they had stopped.

Balthazar and Gabriel were led inside by two nurses who were nothing if not patient. Gabriel kept demanding to know how Cas was, even though his voice was well and truly shaking now, all of his composure having melted away with the boost of Adrenaline the crash had caused. By contrast, Balthazar was largely silent, content to allow Gabriel to make the demands for the moment.

There were police at the hospital as well, and Balthazar thought he recognized one of them from the cruiser at the accident. They kept asking to speak with him and Gabriel, but the nurses were adamant: no one spoke to them until they had been checked out to make sure they were healthy.

The hospital was quiet, and it sent a creeping feeling up Balthazar’s spine as the nurses ran their tests.

It wasn’t long before it was declared that he had three broken ribs, a mild concussion, and a bad sprain in his left ankle, in addition to his mending shoulder. Balthazar didn’t care much, since he still didn’t know what was wrong with Cas.

When the police were allowed to ask him questions, Balthazar shifted uncomfortably.

“We just need to know what happened,” the first officer said.

“I don’t know,” Balthazar said with a shrug. He was staring at the floor. “The light turned green and I went. The other car didn’t stop.”

“Balthazar! Thank goodness you’re okay!”

Balthazar turned at his name and saw his mother running toward him down the hall. He didn’t move from his spot, just watched her approach him. When she hugged him, he could see over her shoulder, and he noticed his father right behind her, as well as Gabriel’s mother. Cas’ father was behind them.

“Mom?” Gabriel asked from behind Balthazar. He ran to meet his mother and buried his face against her shoulder.

When Cas’ father was next to them, Balthazar pulled out of his mother’s grip and hugged Chuck instead.

“I’m sorry Mr. Shurley,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry. It was my fault, but I didn’t mean it. I didn’t see the other car. It was an accident!”

Chuck stiffened, caught off guard by Balthazar’s words and actions. They scared him.

“It’s not your fault Balthazar,” Gabriel said quietly. He had pulled away from his mother and was standing behind them.

“What happened?” Chuck finally asked. “Where’s Cas?”

Balthazar finally broke down, his sobs silently shaking his body.

“We were at an intersection,” Gabriel said in a wavering voice. “When the light turned green, we went. But a car was coming from the side street and it didn’t stop.”

Chuck had a bad feeling about this. If Gabriel and Balthazar were here, why wasn’t Cas?

“Cas was in the backseat,” Gabriel continued, tears now falling down his cheeks. “Our car was hit behind the back door, I think.”

Chuck did his best not to panic. He didn’t think he was doing a good job.

“They took him from the ambulance as soon as we got here. I don’t know where he is. They won’t tell me. I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Gabriel said. He was trembling now. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Chuck said. He realized he’d started crying again at some point.

Gabriel’s mother wrapped him in her arms and held him. Balthazar’s father took the boy gently by the arm to untangle him from Chuck.

Chuck looked helplessly at the nurse who had been leading them this way. She nodded and jerked her head in the direction of the end of the hall, starting in that direction. Chuck followed her nervously.

The door they came to was labeled “ICU.” Chuck felt his heart drop into his feet.

There weren’t any individual rooms that Chuck could see, just sections that were separated by curtains. Some of the curtains were drawn so the partitions were separated on the sides and in front while some had the front curtain pulled back – usually, it seemed, because a nurse or doctor was making rounds.

The nurse led him to a counter that was set on one wall, behind which sat another nurse on a computer, making some kind of entry.

“Who are you looking for?” the nurse asked, not looking up from her computer screen.

“Castiel,” Chuck said.

Finally the nurse looked up at him with sad eyes. The badge she had clipped to her scrubs read stated that her name was “Tessa.” She nodded to the other nurse, dismissing her. Tessa stood and beckoned for Chuck to follow her. “This way,” she said.

Chuck followed her between the rows of curtains. Dread was building in his gut as they walked, though they didn’t have to go far.

Tessa stopped at one curtain and hesitated before pulling it back. She glanced at Chuck with a pitying look. “I want to warn you,” she said gently, “he doesn’t look very good.”

Chuck nodded mutely, wringing his hands.

Tessa watched him another moment before she pulled the curtain back.

Cas was dressed in a hospital gown with a blanket pulled up to his waist. The lines of his injuries were sharp and defined, and there were stitches showing under his right sleeve. Various monitors blinked beside him, showing his heart rate and respiration, among other things. There was a tube down his throat and an IV in his arm. Bruises showed clearly on his arms, and his left eye was black and swollen, the discoloration spreading over his nose which had been set from a break. His left leg was raised under the blanket, as if it was resting on a stack of pillows.

Chuck moved to a chair that had been left next to the bed. He sank into it like a man in a dream. He felt he should say something, but all he could think of was to ask what was wrong.

“They had to cut him out of the car at the scene,” Tessa said. She remained at the foot of the bed, picking up Cas’ chart and looking over the information scribbled there. “His heart was stopped for three minutes.” Tessa pretended she didn’t hear the sob that scraped out of Chuck’s throat. “They brought him here as soon as they could. We had to stitch an injury on his right shoulder and the right side of his abdomen. His left leg and nose are broken and have been set. Four of his ribs are cracked as well.”

“Has he woken up?” Chuck managed to ask after a minute.

“Not yet,” Tessa replied, replacing the chart. “He hit his head pretty hard and has a concussion, so it might take some time for him to come around.”

Chuck nodded mutely, his eyes glued to his son’s face, willing him to wake up.

Tessa stood quietly for a few minutes, and when she spoke, her voice was gentle. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you stay right now. Visiting hours start at 8 a.m.”

Chuck knit his brow and stared up at the nurse. “You’re telling me to leave?”

“I have to,” she said calmly. “You aren’t allowed back here right now. We made an exception because of the circumstances, but you need to leave.”

“No.”

“Sir, you aren’t _allowed_ back here. I will have someone remove you if I have to.” Tessa was still speaking patiently, but there was a hint of annoyance – or maybe threat – under her words.

Chuck sat for another moment, staring into the nurse’s eyes. He was hoping she would back down, but she met his gaze with an icy glare, indicating she had no intention of backing down.

Finally, Chuck nodded and stood. He looked back at Cas before he walked out.

Balthazar and Gabriel and their families were waiting for him the hallway.

“What’s wrong with him?” Gabriel asked. His voice was hesitant, as if he really didn’t want to know the answer.

“He’s pretty banged up,” Chuck said, wiping at his eyes and inhaling sharply through his nose. “But he’ll be okay. Excuse me.” He made his way down the hall, not looking back at them, even though he could tell they were close behind him.

When they made it back to the lobby, Chuck made his way to the payphones that lined one wall.

Balthazar hesitated behind him. “I’m really sorry,” he said.

“It’s not your fault Balthazar,” Chuck said, not looking back at him. He knew what he said was true, but he didn’t want to be bothered with it at the moment. When the boy’s footsteps had retreated, Chuck dug in his pocket for change. He inserted his coins and dialed a number.

He’d almost considered hanging up and calling back when she’d actually be awake when her tired voice answered, “Hello?”

“Hannah,” Chuck said. He tried to keep his voice even, but it wasn’t going for him. “It’s dad.”

“Dad?” There was rustling on the other end as she shifted. “What’s going on? What time is it?”

“It’s late, sorry,” he replied, and his voice wavered. “Castiel was in a car accident.”

“What?” Hannah demanded, her voice coming loudly down the line. Chuck heard her whisper an apology to someone, probably her roommate. “What happened?”

“Apparently they were going through an intersection and a car ran into them,” Chuck said in summary. “Look, Hannah, I’d rather not explain over the phone. I think you should be here.”

“Of course,” Hannah said. It sounded like she was already getting up and sifting through her things. “I’ll leave in just a minute. I should be there in a few hours.”

“Hannah,” Chuck said, cutting her off. “Don’t rush down here in a panic. Be smart.”

“I will. I’ll be there soon.”

“Alright. I’ll see you when you get here. I love you.”

“Love you too dad. See you soon.”

“Oh, and Hannah?” Chuck added. “Drive safe.”

*~*~*~*~*

Dean went to bed not long after the voice came back into his mind. He felt emotionally drained and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, but he couldn’t seem to fall into unconsciousness. He just kept listening to the voice, not trusting it to continue singing.

A few times it weakened, but it didn’t disappear again. He hoped it would still be there when he woke up in the morning. He wished it would be as strong as it had been before.

His mind wandered all night over what had happened to the owner of the voice, and why he might have died. He wondered what he was supposed to do if his soulmate _did_ die before they had a chance to meet. The thought scared him, but also piqued his curiosity. His imagination wandered to what he’d do if he _didn’t_ end up with his soulmate. Guilt scratched at the back of his mind at the thought, considering his soulmate’s voice was still fighting to be heard.

It was almost three in the morning when he finally fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder, I'm no expert on how hospitals run, so please bear with me.

By Monday, Dean had recovered. Mostly. It didn’t help him that his parents and Sam kept walking on eggshells around him; acting like every little thing might set him off, even though he felt more on edge with them being so careful than he would have if they’d gone back to something closer to normal.

There was one thought that kept nagging at him, though, and he resolved to have some kind of resolution after school. He drove to school in silence, reviewing his plan in his head over and over as his fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel.

When he parked his car, he took a deep breath before stepping out and making his way to the curb where he saw Jo waiting for him.

“Morning stranger,” she said with a smile when he was close enough.

“G’morning,” Dean replied.

“I saw you pull in after me and thought I’d wait,” Jo said when Dean stepped onto the curb beside her. She turned to walk beside him into the school. “So how was your weekend?”

“Well, my soulmate died,” Dean started. He tried to keep his voice even, but even though he’d made his peace with the events that had occurred Friday night, he heard his voice wobble over the words.

“What! Holy shit, Dean, I’m-”

“It’s okay,” he said, cutting her off. “It was only for a few minutes. He’s still there.”

“Are you okay?” Jo asked, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder to stop him so he had to look at her. “Really?”

“I’ll be fine,” Dean said, not quite meeting her eyes.

“Dean, you don’t have to be okay all the time,” Jo said earnestly. “I remember how my mom was when my dad died, and I don’t care what you say, there’s no way you came away from that perfectly fine.”

“I’ll be fine, Jo.” Dean’s voice was stiff, leaving no room for argument. He remembered Ellen after her husband died, and how long it had taken her to move on. He pushed the thought away.

Jo studied Dean for another moment before she let her hand drop back to her side. “Alright,” she said. There was a skeptical edge to her voice, but she let it go.

“How was your weekend?” Dean asked as they started walking again.

“It was fun,” Jo said, her face brightening as she started a story of one thing or another that her young cousins had gotten into. The stories of her weekend made Dean laugh, and they were a welcome distraction from what was going on in his mind.

When the bell rang they went their separate ways for homeroom, Dean’s mood lighter than it had been.

Aaron slid into his seat beside Dean just as the bell rang. “How’re you holding up?” he asked quietly, completely ignoring what the teacher at the front of the room was saying.

“I’ll live,” Dean replied. “But I kinda want to talk to you. Do you want a ride home after school?”

Aaron’s brow knit in confusion. “Yeah, sure,” he said. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Dean assured him. He momentarily shut up when the teacher’s gaze passed over them in the back of the room, then said, “I didn’t get a chance to talk to Jo about the band though, so we can bring it up at lunch.”

“You sure you want to go through with that?” Aaron asked, now keeping one eye on the teacher, who seemed to be throwing more dirty looks their way. “We can put it on hold if you want to wait.”

“First mom and dad and Sam, then Jo, and now you,” Dean said with a shake of his head, growing more annoyed. “I swear, if you keep acting like I’m going to break, I’m going to explode.”

“Alright,” Aaron said, a corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk. “We’ll talk to Jo at lunch.”

“Thank you,” Dean said, exasperated, as he leaned back in his seat so he could pretend to listen to the announcements going on at the front of the room. They weren’t very exciting and he started tuning them out after about fifteen seconds.

Dean’s first four classes alternated between light speed and molasses in winter, so lunch was a welcome relief, even if the burgers they were serving were a bit lack-luster. He found Aaron and Jo seated at a corner table, talking over their food.

“Hey guys,” Dean said, sliding into the seat beside Jo.

“Aaron says Sam had the idea to start a band,” Jo said without preamble.

“Uh, yeah, he did,” Dean said, caught off guard by her abruptness.

“Why didn’t you mention that this morning?” she asked.

Dean shrugged. “You were telling stories. I liked that better.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “Well, I think it’s a good idea.”

“Really?” Dean asked.

“Sure, why not?”

Dean shrugged again and took a bite of his lunch.

“We figured we could practice this weekend, if it’s alright if we come over,” Aaron said.

“Far as I know,” Dean said around his food.

“Pig,” Jo said, smacking Dean with her plastic fork.

Dean chuckled and they settled in to eating their lunches, occasionally discussing music or schoolwork.

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly, except when someone pulled the fire alarm in sixth period. The loud ringing sent a bright orange racing across Dean’s vision, and pressing his hands to his ears didn’t help much. However, since they were outside for most of the period, Dean didn’t have to present his history project, so he counted that as a plus.

By the time Dean met Aaron by the Impala, his mood had lifted considerably since that morning.

“You’re in a good mood,” Aaron commented when Dean unlocked the doors and he slid into the passenger seat.

“It’s been a good day,” Dean said with a shrug as he started the car. It was a pleasantly cool afternoon, so they rolled the windows down for the drive home.

“You said you wanted to talk,” Aaron said after the first few minutes of the drive passed in silence.

“Yeah,” Dean said, sitting up straighter in his seat. “I was just thinking this weekend, about the whole soulmate thing.”

“You said you can still hear him, right?” Aaron asked. His voice was concerned again.

“I can hear him,” Dean confirmed. “But what if I couldn’t? What would I do then?”

Aaron considered this, staring out the window for a moment as he turned the idea over in his mind. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it,” he replied, turning back to Dean with a thoughtful look on his face. “I guess you’d have to find someone else. Like Jo’s mom did. Or you could be alone, if you wanted.”

“Right,” Dean said. “But then what happens with the other person? And their soulmate?”

“Where is this going?” Aaron asked.

“I was just thinking. It’s definitely _possible_ to be with someone else, because Ellen married my Uncle Bobby, and they aren’t soulmates.”

“Bobby’s your uncle?”

“My dad’s best friend,” Dean corrected with a dismissive wave of his hand. “My point is that I could be with someone who _wasn’t_ assigned to me, if I wanted.”

Dean trailed off, and in the silence that followed, Aaron started working out what Dean was trying to say. He went through it a few times, to make sure he wasn’t missing something. “Are… are you asking me on a _date_?” he finally asked.

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes flicking between his mirrors nervously. “I was just suggesting it as a possibility,” he said.

“We have _soulmates_ ,” Aaron said. “You said yourself you can still hear yours. I can still hear mine.”

“I know that,” Dean said, exasperated. “But my soulmate fucking _died_ on Friday. And I don’t know why. What if it’s some kind of chronic thing? What if I sit around waiting for him and something happens before we actually meet?”

“Dean, I think you need to relax,” Aaron said, concern coloring his voice. “Think it through a little.”

“I’ve thought it through all weekend.” Dean stopped at a red light and turned to look at Aaron. “What if my soulmate has something wrong with him that can kill him for good, huh? What if he lives halfway across the planet and I never actually meet him? There are billions of people on Earth, the odds are pretty slim. What if one of us gets hit by a fuckin’ bus? Am I supposed to wait thirty years and then have him die so I never meet him?”

“You’re over-thinking this,” Aaron said, trying to keep his voice level to calm Dean down.

“No, you’re under-thinking it,” Dean shot back. “I have no guarantee I’ll actually meet him. I don’t want to wait around and see what happens, especially after what happened on Friday.”

The light turned green and Dean glanced in either direction to make sure the way was clear before he drove off.

The conversation died off for the remainder of the drive. The silence was tense, with Dean cooling off and Aaron mulling over what Dean had said.

When Dean parked on the curb in front of Aaron’s house, he finally looked up at his friend. “Look, I’m sorry about that,” he said, defeated. “Just forget it.”

Aaron watched Dean thoughtfully for a moment. “No,” he finally said, “I think you have a point.”

Dean hesitated before saying anything, waiting for the punch line that didn’t come. “You’re serious,” he finally said.

“Yeah, I am,” Aaron said. “I mean, I still think you need to think on it for a while, but I don’t think you’re wrong.”

“So…?”

“So we talk this weekend,” Aaron said with a shrug. “But actually think on it.”

“I won’t change my mind.” Dean’s voice was firm.

“Humor me.”

“Fine. See you tomorrow.”

Aaron’s mouth quirked up at one corner. “See you tomorrow.”

*~*~*~*~*

When Cas woke up, bleary-eyed, he was aware of sterile white light and a pressure on his face. He tried to shift to swipe at his face and felt a tugging on his hand. When he glanced down, he spotted a needle inserted into the vein in his hand and taped into place.

He hadn’t been totally conscious before, but now a sudden rush of adrenaline set his heart to racing. He looked around frantically, searching for someone. He didn’t see any people, but he notice light blue curtains hanging around the bed for privacy, several monitors with different jumping lines, and an IV stand beside the bed. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that the monitors should probably be beeping louder than they were.

In a wave of panic, Cas tried to sit up. Before he could get his arms situated at his sides to hoist himself up, there was a woman pushing the curtains aside and rushing to the side of his bed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to prevent him from getting up.

Cas narrowed his eyes, confused. He could hear her, but she sounded muffled, as if the sound was traveling through water. The realization sent a pang of fear through him.

“My name is Tessa,” the nurse said. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face, and her eyes were kind as she watched Cas. “I’m taking care of you.”

Cas tried to lean his head closer to her, to try to understand what she was saying. He thought she had introduced herself, but he didn’t quite catch the name. He glanced down at the badge and read “Tessa.”

When he looked back up, he realized she had been saying something, and he hadn’t caught a word of it.

“I can’t hear you,” Cas interrupted, his voice dry and hoarse from disuse. He saw a concerned look briefly appear on her face, and it worried him. He had figured that he was in a hospital, though he wasn’t sure where, and if his nurse looked that concerned, then they hadn’t known there was something else wrong with him. “Where are my friends?” Cas thought his own voice sounded deeper and more muffled than it had before.

“Your friends are fine,” Tessa said, making sure to speak slowly and clearly now. “Your dad and sister are here. I’ll tell them you’re awake, but a doctor will want to see you before we let them in. Okay?”

Cas nodded and she left. He turned her words over a few times in his mind. Hannah was here, but the drive from her college was pretty far, so he had been unconscious for…a day, maybe? And Tessa said Balthazar and Gabriel were fine, but did she mean that, or was she saying it so he wouldn’t worry about them?

In the time between when Tessa left and the doctor arrived, Cas assessed himself for damage. It was much easier now that he’d calmed down a bit and could think more clearly. He used the hand that wasn’t attached to the IV to touch his face and felt tape over his nose. The bridge of his nose was tender to the touch, and the skin around his left eye wasn’t much better. His left leg felt heavy, and a brush against it with the toes of his right foot revealed a cast. The skin on his right arm felt a little tight, and he glanced down to see the end of a line of stitches peeking out from under his sleeve.  He took a deep breath and leaned his head back, watching the ceiling. He was comforted by the realization that the singing in his mind didn’t sound muffled, and it was still accompanied by the colors.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caused Cas to look up. There was a tall man with dark hair moving the curtain aside. He took a seat in the chair beside Cas’ bed and made sure Cas was watching him before he spoke.

“How do you feel, Castiel?” he asked slowly.

“Sore,” Cas said, his voice scratching. “And my head hurts.”

The doctor nodded. “That’s expected,” he said. Cas liked that; at least his pain wasn’t unusual. “Tessa tells me you’re having trouble hearing.”

Cas nodded. “I can if I concentrate, though,” he rasped.

“Good,” the doctor said before making a note. He looked back up at Cas before speaking again. “I’m going to check your vitals, and then I’m going to check on your ears. Okay?”

Cas decided he liked this doctor. “Okay.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Mr. Shurley,” Tessa said, spotting Chuck coming back down the hall from the cafeteria. He’d been at the hospital almost constantly since the accident. He had left Cas’ side only half an hour before to grab something for lunch. Now he was walking back with a cup of cheap coffee in his hand.

Chuck looked up and a worried look crossed his tired face when he saw it was Tessa who had called him. “What is it? Is he okay?” he asked, his pace quickening to close the distance.

“He’s fine,” Tessa said, breaking into a smile. “He’s awake. There’s a doctor checking on him now.”

Chuck was so relieved he felt all the tension leave his body so quickly he had to lean against the wall to keep from falling to the ground. “He’ll be okay?”

“I won’t make any promises, but he’s alert now, and talking.”

The information was so comforting that Chuck laughed. Cas was _awake._ He was _talking._ Chuck hadn’t been sure he’d ever hear Cas' voice again.

“There is one other thing,” Tessa said gently.

“How can there be another thing? You said he was awake. What else is there?” Chuck asked, the smile on his face wavering only slightly.

“He’s having trouble hearing,” she said. “It could be residual from when he hit his head in the accident and could clear up in a few hours, or it could be permanent. We won’t know until we get a better look at what’s going on.”

“When can I see him?”

Tessa smiled at him; his excitement was infectious. “As soon as he’s been looked at. If he’s improved enough, we’ll move him to a quieter section of the hospital. With longer visiting hours.”

Chuck laughed again, a relieved sound. There were tears in his eyes. “I need to find Hannah.”


	6. Chapter 6

When the doctor had finished examining him, Cas was moved to a different room, with his condition having improved enough that he didn’t need to stay in the ICU anymore. He wanted to use his crutches to walk to his new room, but the consensus was that he would use a wheelchair. When Cas stood to move from the bed to the wheelchair, his vision swam and he decided they were probably right.

He liked the new room. There was a view, even if it was only over the parking lot. The IV had been removed from his hand, and he’d managed to nibble at something when they gave him medicine for the pain in his head.

There was daylight outside, so Cas had at first assumed it was Saturday afternoon, but he’d been informed that it was actually Monday. The thought was unsettling, since that meant he’d been unconscious for two and a half days. He hadn’t gotten any information about Balthazar and Gabriel aside from a quick reassurance that they were fine.

All the thinking, along with the medicine and his general condition, made Cas tired. He smiled when he saw his father and Hannah walk into the room, but he yawned too.

“Hi,” he managed to say.

“Thank goodness you’re okay,” Hannah said, rushing to sit in the chair beside Cas’ bed.

“Just tired,” Cas said.

Chuck took the seat next to Hannah. “We won’t keep you up long,” he said.

Cas nodded. “Are Balthazar and Gabriel okay?” he asked.

“They’re okay,” Chuck said. He made sure to speak clearly so Cas could understand him. “They left almost right after they were here.”

“Can I see them?”

“After you come home, we’ll have them over,” Chuck promised.

“What about you? How are you feeling?” Hannah asked, putting her hand on Cas’ forearm.

“My head feels a little better, but they gave me medicine, so I think that’s why. And I still can’t hear very well,” Cas replied. He yawned again.

“The doctor said the hearing loss happened because of the trauma to your head in the accident,” Chuck explained gently.

Cas knit his brow in thought. “What happened?” he asked. The doctor had explained what was wrong with him, but he hadn’t exactly been a wealth of information about the details of the accident itself.

Chuck and Hannah hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to tell him.

“What do you remember?” Hannah asked.

Cas tried to think. “I remember leaving the football game. And Gabriel and Balthazar were talking a lot on the way back. And then I remember waking up here,” he said, trying not to yawn. He yawned anyway.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Chuck suggested gently.

“I want to know what happened though,” Cas protested.

“There’s always tomorrow,” Chuck said. “Get some sleep.”

Cas tried to protest again, but he yawned instead. He couldn’t fight against his drooping eyelids for much longer anyway.

*~*~*~*~*

Chuck called Balthazar’s house first, since the boy had been so broken up about the accident on Friday.

“Hello?” Balthazar answered. He hadn’t gone to school that day, and both of his parents were at work.

“Hey there Balthazar. How’re you holding up?” Chuck asked.

“I’m okay, I guess,” Balthazar said. He still sounded upset. “How’s Cas?” There was more than a hint of guilt in his voice when he asked.

“He’s okay. He was awake for about an hour,” Chuck said, and he could _feel_ Balthazar’s attention catch.

“What did he say? Does he remember the accident?” Balthazar asked, his voice suddenly animated and nervous. “Is he mad at me?”

“What? No Balthazar, he’s not mad at you,” Chuck said. “He didn’t say much before he fell asleep, but he said he doesn’t remember the accident.”

“Do you…do you think he’s not mad at me _because_ he doesn’t remember the accident?” Balthazar asked, sounding upset.

“No,” Chuck said firmly. “There’s nothing to be mad at you about.”

“Okay,” Balthazar said, his voice small.

“He should be able to come home tomorrow,” Chuck said, trying to lighten Balthazar’s mood. He decided against mentioning Cas’ hearing issues; Balthazar didn’t need anything else to beat himself up about. “We’d like for you to come over for dinner, if your parents are okay with it.”

“I’ll ask when they get home,” Balthazar said. His voice had reverted to sounding defeated, and Chuck made a mental note to call him again before his parents got home.

“Alright. Take care of yourself,” Chuck said. He heard a click when the call ended.

Chuck hung the phone up and sighed. He wished Balthazar wouldn’t be so hard on himself.

He picked the payphone up again and thought a moment before inserting his coins and dialing Gabriel’s home number.

“Novak residence,” a woman’s voice answered.

“Hello Nancy. This is Chuck,” Chuck said.

“Oh, hello Chuck,” she said. “How’s Castiel doing?”

“He’s great actually. Is Gabriel there? I have an update for him.”

“Yes, just a minute.”

There was a moment of silence before Gabriel’s voice came through the line.

“Hey Mr. Shurley,” he said.

“Hi Gabriel. How’re you feeling?”

“A little sore, but I’m okay,” Gabriel said. His voice was downtrodden, but he didn’t sound as bad as Balthazar.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Chuck said.

“How’s Cas?” Gabriel asked.

“He’s good. He was awake for about an hour.”

“Really?” Gabriel asked, his voice suddenly far more upbeat. “Is he okay?”

“He’ll be alright,” Chuck said. “He’s having trouble hearing, but that’s the only issue they can see right now that looks long-term.”

“That’s not so bad. When can he go home?”

“Tomorrow, hopefully. We’d like for you to come to dinner when he gets home.”

“I’ll be there,” Gabriel said. “I don’t think my mom will mind.”

“Good to hear,” Chuck said.

“Was there anything else?” Gabriel asked.

Chuck hesitated for a moment. “Have you spoken to Balthazar?”

“Yeah, this morning” Gabriel said, his voice falling. “He’s beating himself up pretty bad.”

“I noticed,” Chuck said. “I didn’t tell him about Cas’ hearing when I spoke to him a few minutes ago. I don’t want to give him something else to be upset over.”

“Good call.”

“Hopefully he’ll be at dinner with us tomorrow too,” Chuck said.

“I hope so,” Gabriel said. “I don’t think he’s left his room since he got home.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a pretty big thing for him to put on himself. And you too.”

“I’m okay,” Gabriel said.

“Alright,” Chuck said, deciding not to make a big deal of it. “Take care of yourself.”

“Tell Cas I said hi next time he wakes up.”

“I will. We’ll see you at dinner tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

When the call ended, Chuck made his way back to Cas’ room. He ended up falling asleep in the chair.

*~*~*~*~*

“It’s…what exactly?” Hannah asked.

“Sensorineural Hearing Loss,” Tessa repeated, saying it a little slower this time.

The two were sitting across from each other in the cafeteria. Normally Hannah wouldn’t bother someone on their lunch break, but when Tessa had been explaining Cas’ condition to them earlier, she hadn’t gotten to ask what the condition was, specifically.

“And what is that?” Hannah asked.

“It’s a hearing loss caused by damage to the inner ear,” Tessa explained, sneaking bites of her lunch between her words. “The structures in the inner ear that are responsible for transmitting auditory information to the brain are damaged, or the part of the brain that processes sound is damaged.”

“How does that happen?”

“Exposure to loud noises. Head trauma. Infection,” Tessa said, ticking the causes off on her fingers.

Hannah hesitated before asking her next question. “Can it be fixed?”

Tessa shook her head. “Hearing aids are generally all you can do.”

Hannah nodded, resigned.

Tessa’s brow knit in concern. “How’re you holding up?” she asked.

“What?” Hannah asked, caught off guard. “Oh, I’m okay.”

The look on Tessa’s face said she didn’t believe it. “It’s tough on families when they’re here,” she said. “I see a lot of them come through. They all say they’re okay, but they aren’t. Not really.”

“I’m fine,” Hannah said, more forcefully this time.

Tessa shrugged and took the last bite of her sandwich. “I’m just saying, it’s okay to not be okay,” she said, pushing her chair back and standing. “I have to get back to work.”

“Sorry for interrupting your lunch break,” Hannah said. She stayed in her seat and picked at the food in front of her.

“It’s no trouble,” Tessa said, picking up the remains of her lunch. “Take care.”

*~*~*~*~*

The next day, Cas had a hearing aid fitted for each of his ears. He had been sleeping on and off, but when he was awake he was coherent with only mild complaints of being sore. He got out of bed a few times, with the help of a nurse, and the room didn’t spin around him as much anymore, though it wasn’t exactly stable either.

The clothes Cas had been wearing Friday had been ruined in the accident, so Chuck had had to go home to get him something to wear.

Cas didn’t have a problem getting in the car at first. He managed to get from his wheelchair to the seat behind the driver without any problems. Hannah had parked her car at the house so they wouldn’t need to drive two cars, and she was riding shotgun. Cas didn’t mind.

As the drive continued, Cas became more agitated, but he couldn’t figure out why. Every time the car accelerated, he felt himself stiffen, and he was nervous. He still didn’t know all the details of the accident, and he couldn’t remember any of it, but he was sure his body remembered it.

“You okay back there?” Hannah asked.

Cas shifted his gaze to her from the window. Her expression was concerned. He guessed he must have looked terrified if that was how she was looking at him. “I’m okay,” he said, composing himself.

Hannah hesitated before asking, “Are you sure?”

Cas felt annoyance bubble in his gut. “I’m _fine_ ,” he said.

Hannah blinked at him, surprised. It wasn’t like him to speak forcefully, and it didn’t ease the concern in her chest. “Alright,” she said. She turned to face forward again, throwing a worried look at her father. He glanced back at her with a helpless expression.

Cas went back to looking out the window, the annoyance draining off his face in seconds.  

The rest of the ride continued in silence. Hannah tried to be subtle when she looked back to check on her brother, but he noticed.

When they arrived back at the house, Cas wheeled himself to the living room and managed to throw himself onto the couch so he could watch TV, since his head hurt too much for him to want to try reading. He was asleep in minutes.

He was still asleep when the doorbell rang a few hours later. Chuck opened the door to find Balthazar, who looked as if he was afraid of everyone’s reaction to his arrival. His injured arm was still in the sling, and the hand that poked out of the end of it was holding onto the material as a small child would hold a security blanket.

“Good afternoon Balthazar,” Chuck said, stepping aside so the boy could enter.

“Good afternoon.” Balthazar entered cautiously and followed Chuck down the hall to the living room. His gaze immediately fell on Cas, asleep on the couch.

The bruises on Cas’ face and arms had faded somewhat (they were closer to reds and pinks than blues and purples). There was a bandage on the upper portion of his right arm, and a plain black cast on his left leg.

Balthazar froze at the doorway, looking like he wanted to turn and run from the room. Chuck noticed and stopped to wait for him.

“I…” Balthazar wanted to say something, but couldn’t get his voice to work.

“It’s alright Balthazar,” Chuck said. “He’s fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Balthazar said, wiping his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Chuck said. He paused for a second before adding, “You know, he asked about you.”

“He did?” Balthazar asked, looking up as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to believe it.

Chuck nodded. “He’s worried about you,” he said. He gestured to the chair that was set at an angle to the couch Cas was sleeping on. “Have a seat. Gabriel should be here soon. Then we’ll start dinner.” At that, Chuck made his way back to the kitchen, where he and Hannah were preparing the meal.

Balthazar cautiously lowered himself into the chair and perched on the edge as if he was preparing to leave at a moment’s notice. He watched Cas for a few minutes, remorse settling over his heart. It didn’t make much difference to him that Cas was home; he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to shake his guilt over the incident.

Some part of Cas must have been aware that he was being watched, because it was only a moment later that his eyelids fluttered open. He groaned and rubbed at his eyes as he forced himself upright. When he lowered his hand, he noticed Balthazar watching him.

“Oh, hey,” he said groggily. “I thought you weren’t coming over until later.”

Balthazar blinked at him, confused. “It’s five thirty,” was all he could think to say.

“What?” Cas asked, leaning closer.

“It's....five thirty?” Balthazar said, suddenly unsure of the situation.

"Oh," Cas said, glancing at the clock on the far wall.

"Are you okay?" Balthazar asked.

Cas blinked at him once, a thoughtful look on his face as he worked through what Balthazar had said. "Yeah, I'm okay," he finally said. "Just having trouble hearing. They said the crash damaged my inner ear."

“Shit,” Balthazar said, sounding defeated. “I’m really sorry Cas.”

“It’s okay,” Cas said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“But it was. I jumped off the line as soon as the light turned green. That’s why we were hit. It was my fault,” Balthazar confessed. There were tears in his eyes again.

Cas shook his head. He immediately regretted it for the throb it caused behind his eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. It was the other guy’s fault.”

“But what if it wasn’t?”

“It was,” Cas said earnestly. “I don’t blame you. Don’t blame yourself.”

Balthazar nodded, but he didn’t actually feel much better.

“How do you feel?” Cas asked, trying to get off the topic of his own injuries. “Does your arm hurt?”

“No, it feels fine,” Balthazar said, glancing down at the sling. “A little sore, but they gave me medicine to take, so it’s not bad. My head still hurts sometimes, but it’s getting better.”

The sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, and Hannah called out, “I’ll get it!”

“Gabriel’s here,” Cas said.

Gabriel’s footsteps came flying down the hall and he slowed to a walk only when he reached the threshold to the living room.

“Don’t hurt yourselves in there,” Chuck said from the kitchen.

“We won’t,” Cas called back.

“Boy is it good to see you,” Gabriel said, stepping around the discarded wheelchair to sit on the couch beside Cas. His gaze jumped between his friends. “How’s everyone holding up?”

“Sore seems to be the general consensus,” Cas said.

“You seem to be holding up okay,” Balthazar said, managing to hide the resentment that threatened to bleed through into his words.

“Just a few bumps and bruises,” Gabriel said, trying not to sound defensive. “My head hurt over the weekend, but it hasn’t really felt bad today.”

“Have you been to school?” Cas asked.

“I’m going back tomorrow,” Gabriel said. He wanted to stay home longer, but there wasn’t any kind of medical reason he should miss any more.

“I’ll probably go back next week,” Balthazar said. The week was all his mother would give him.

“When are you going back?” Gabriel asked.

Cas shrugged. “I have to stay home and rest for a while. They don’t want me moving around too much. I’ll go back and get my leg and head rechecked in a couple weeks. They'll give me my hearing aids then too. Maybe I can go back after that.”

“That’s a lot to miss,” Balthazar said.

“At least it’s the beginning of the year. I can catch up.”

“I can bring you assignments, if you want,” Balthazar offered. He figured it was the least he could do.

“Sure,” Cas said, “that’d be great. I don’t know if I’ll be able to focus on them for very long, but they’d be good to have.”

“At least Tapping can’t eat your soul if you’re stuck here,” Gabriel said, trying to keep the mood light.

Balthazar cracked a smile at that. Cas snorted a laugh, even though it made his head hurt.

“Everyone ready for dinner?” Hannah asked, standing in the doorway.

“Definitely,” Gabriel said, hopping to his feet almost immediately.

Cas laughed at that. He managed to pull himself into the wheelchair without any help, even though everyone offered their assistance.

*~*~*~*~*

News of the crash had, of course, already spread through much of the town. By the end of the week, almost everyone who lived in a ten mile radius had stopped by to ask after Cas. Almost everyone else had called to check in, even people Cas only vaguely knew.

Chuck had taken the week off from work, but that was all he could afford before he needed to get back to earning a living. Hannah stayed for a week as well, before she was forced to go back to school so she could stay on top of her classes to graduate on time.

Gabriel came by almost every day to drop off assignments and deliver well-wishes from their classmates. He would stick around for a while and do his homework until his parents got home from work. Balthazar would come over during the day, and Cas felt like Balthazar was keeping an eye on him, but he didn’t mind; the company was nice, even if Cas was asleep a lot the first few days.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean did a lot of thinking that week, despite what he’d told Aaron.

He’d always heard, from childhood, that a person’s soulmate was the one who was perfect for them. His parents had found each other, his grandparents had found each other, everyone was happy. The only people he knew who didn’t fit the mold were Bobby and Ellen, who didn’t really count, since they’d both been married to their soulmates already, separated only by death.

Whenever Dean’s train of thought took him to the stories he’d heard in childhood, he felt guilty for considering being with anyone but the boy he heard in his head.

But then he thought of Ellen and Bobby, and how happy they were together. He thought of different stories that inevitably surfaced sooner or later of people who had never gotten to meet their soulmates, since the other had died before they could meet. He was afraid of waiting and having it be for nothing.

He’d never thought like that before. The illusion had always been that everything would work out in the end, and he’d live happily ever after. That fantasy had shattered when the voice had stopped singing and he’d been forced to think that maybe he wouldn’t actually get that happily ever after that was spoken about as if it was a guarantee.

Often he shook those thoughts away; they were too uncomfortable to think about. Instead, he thought about what songs he could play with Aaron and Jo at practice that weekend. He wanted to play _Traveling Riverside Blues_ by Led Zeppelin, since he was already learning it anyway. Anything by Zeppelin, actually, would be okay by him. He didn’t know what songs Jo and Aaron would want to play, but he started getting a list of potential songs together anyway.

When Saturday rolled around, Dean opened the garage around lunch time. He sat in a chair and took his time making sure the guitar was tuned after he plugged it in to his amp. Sam followed him out a few minutes later and took a seat in the corner of the garage.

Aaron showed up just after Sam.

“Hey guys,” he said, setting his case down.

“Hey,” Dean said.

“We have an audience?” Aaron asked, noticing Sam in the corner. “Hey Sam.”

“Hi Aaron,” Sam said. “I just want to watch.”

Aaron nodded and turned back to Dean, taking his bass from its case and slinging the strap over his shoulder. “What’re we playing?” he asked.

“Nothing right now,” Dean said with a shrug. “We need to wait for Jo.”

“Sounds good,” Aaron said. He plugged his bass in and started strumming absently at the notes, adjusting the strings periodically.

Jo was dropped off only a few minutes later. She had her keyboard tucked under her arm. She smiled at them and unfolded the legs of the keyboard, standing it up so it completed the circle Aaron and Dean seemed to have started.

“So, what’re we playing?” she asked, fetching an extra folding chair from against the wall.

“I’m open to suggestions,” Aaron said.

“I made a list,” Dean said, pulling the paper from his back pocket. It was well worn along the creases from the innumerable times he’d unfolded and refolded it.

“Someone’s prepared,” Jo joked, earning a look of feigned annoyance from Dean.

“I figured it’d be better than sitting around arguing about it,” Dean retorted.

“Whatever,” Jo said, a half-smile on her face. “What’s on the list?”

Dean handed the paper over and Jo inspected the neatly printed words. Aaron walked around her keyboard to look over her shoulder.

“These don’t all have piano parts,” Jo commented.

“I was just spit-balling,” Dean said. “Feel free to add to it.”

“You could always add a piano part,” Aaron suggested. “You know what would sound right.”

“And you can sing,” Dean added.

Jo raised an eyebrow at them. “You think I’m going to just be an attachment?” she asked. “No way. Not gonna happen.”

“So we play the ones that have a piano part,” Dean said with a shrug. “Pick one.”

It didn’t take long to settle on a song, with _Old Time Rock and Roll_ being one they all knew and could all have a part in.

Sam listened attentively, clapping whenever they finished a song. At first he thought it might be weird if he was listening to them, but it ended up being just like any other time he listened to them practice with each other, since they were running through songs they already knew. They often took turns playing for each other, or playing together if there was something they could all work with, or could work with in pairs. Unfortunately, they were missing something if they were going to take this seriously.

“You need drums,” Sam said when there was a break in the music.

“Go get some pots and pans and knock yourself out,” Dean said, gesturing to the empty seat just behind him.

“No, I’m serious,” Sam said.

“I know,” Dean said. The thought had crossed his mind, but he hadn’t considered the fact that Aaron and Jo would be so gung-ho about the whole band thing. Already today they’d traded song ideas, and Jo had keyed out the beginnings of a melody.

“Know anyone who plays drums?” Aaron asked.

There was a beat of silence before Jo said, “What about that Benny kid? Doesn’t he play the drums?”

Aaron shrugged. “I’ve only seen him in passing.”

“I think he does,” Dean said. “I’ve seen him leaving the studio when I get there for my lesson. He always has a set of sticks and a practice pad with him.”

“Do you think he’d want to do it?” Jo asked.

Dean shrugged. “I’ll bring it up to him on Monday, I guess.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon trading ideas and playing their own melodies. Sam left after another half hour, claiming it wasn’t as much fun to listen to them debating ideas as it was to listen to them play.

Jo and Aaron stayed for dinner. They weren’t all free at the same time the next day, so they made plans to practice again during the week.

After Jo left around eight, Dean and Aaron went back to the garage. It was usually where they ended up when Aaron was over, unless he was planning to stay the night, which he wasn’t.

They practiced without speaking for a while, playing with and against each other. They ended up playing for each other and trying to repeat the melody back. Unfortunately for Aaron, Dean rarely lost.

“I should stop trying to duel with the guy with perfect pitch,” Aaron said after Dean had won for the third time in a row.

“Not my fault,” Dean countered. The notes each having a distinct color assigned to them meant that he had long ago memorized the color/note combinations and could play back nearly anything that was played for him.

“Still, it’s embarrassing for me,” Aaron said, feigning hurt.

“Bruising your ego?” Dean asked with a sly grin.

Aaron laughed. “Yeah, sure. Something like that.”

Despite what he said, Aaron tried one more time. He lasted a lot longer this time, but he ended up getting his fingers caught on each other on one response when his mind said one note and his hand said another.

“Gah, fine, you win,” Aaron said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “But at some point, I’m going to beat you at that.”

“I look forward to it,” Dean said, grinning.

“It’ll happen,” Aaron said. “Count on it.”

“I won’t hold my breath,” Dean said. He looked down when he felt Aaron’s pick hit him in the chest. “Really?” he asked, leaning down to pick it up.

Aaron took his pick back with a shrug. “Wasn’t there something to talk about?” he asked.

Dean shifted, looking down at his guitar as he fiddled with the knobs. “Yeah,” he said.

An awkward silence descended on them as they both refused to pick up the topic.

“Do you not want to talk about it?” Aaron asked, annoyance beginning to creep into his voice.

“No, we should,” Dean said, still not looking up.

The silence between them grew tense. Dean knew that not talking was making it worse on himself, but he couldn’t force his voice to work.

“Did you think about it?” Aaron finally asked.

“Yeah I did,” Dean said. He felt his cheeks warm slightly.

“And?”

Dean took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I’m afraid I won’t meet him,” he said. He finally looked up to meet his friend’s gaze, but he seemed to be clutching his guitar, as if he was trying to use it as a shield against the reaction he might get. “I don’t want to waste my time waiting if there’s no guarantee I’ll get to see him.”

Aaron nodded. The look on his face suggested he was going through his own carefully cataloged thoughts, weighing what Dean said against the thoughts in his own mind.

“And what happens if you do end up meeting him, and then you’re not available?” Aaron asked. He sounded genuinely curious, without a trace of judgment in his voice.

Dean blinked at him. “I… I don’t know,” he said, his brow knitting. He’d been so wrapped up in whether he wanted something else that he hadn’t considered a what-if scenario.

“What would you have me do, if I met mine?” Aaron asked. His voice was still soft, trying to avoid sounding like he was accusing Dean of something. “Should I give her up too?”

“I wouldn’t stop you from being with her,” Dean said quickly. And he wouldn’t; he would never ask someone to give up anything for him.

“And where does that leave you?”

Dean shrugged. “I’d live.” He tried to sound like the prospect didn’t bother him, but it almost scared him more than the prospect of never meeting his soulmate.

He noticed Aaron was studying him, and he ducked his head for a moment. It was probably worse that Aaron actually seemed to be considering it. Dean thought that if Aaron said no, then at least he’d still have a friend. If Aaron said yes, then how many different ways were there for this to end badly?

Dean was about to start backpedaling when Aaron said, “Alright, I’m in.”

“You, what?” Dean asked.

“I’m in,” Aaron said. He was watching Dean intently, as if searching for something in his expression. “Let’s give it a shot.”

There was a beat of silence, then, “You mean it?”

“Sure. As long as we get a few things straight first.”

“Anything,” Dean said, feeling a weight lift from his chest as he leaned forward ever so slightly.

“If either of us meets our soulmate, that’s it,” Aaron said, his hand sweeping the air in front of him.

“Yeah, of course,” Dean said, nodding.

“That means you’d have to tell me if you met him. No trying to spare me.” Aaron’s voice was pointed and held a tone that left no room for argument.

“You too,” Dean countered. “Don’t worry about me if she shows up.”

“If she’s anything like her voice, you won’t have to worry about that,” Aaron said. There was a roguish glint in his eye.

Dean laughed, but the comment made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t place why. Maybe it was that Aaron made it sound like he would be able to drop Dean at a moment’s notice, and it made Dean nervous.

“And this stays a secret, at least for now,” Aaron added.

“Why?” Dean asked, caught off guard.

Aaron shrugged. “People don’t always take well to relationships outside of soulmates,” he said. “Remember last year, when those two freshmen were dating?”

Dean did remember, but he didn’t want to. He’d felt obligated to defend them from the taunts they received from the other students, and he had. It was a good thing that Jo and Aaron held similar views and had stood with him, because there were many students who didn’t want to be anywhere near him during that year. It made his blood boil.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean said with a slight nod. “Secret.”

“Good,” Aaron said, a smile spreading across his face. “So, when are you taking me to dinner?”


	8. Chapter 8

Cas was out of classes for three weeks. The doctors said his leg was healing nicely, and his concussion was getting significantly better. They took the stitches out of his arm, and that injury had, for the most part, completely healed itself already, leaving a jagged pink scar behind.

Even though Cas knew the time off was necessary, he was agitated from having sat around and done nothing productive for such a long period of time.

Balthazar had made good on his promise and had made sure to bring in assignments and notes that Cas was missing. He and Gabriel both patiently explained anything Cas couldn’t wrap his head around.

The combination of a headache that grew worse the longer the day went on and crutches that made it difficult to get around in the crowded hallways at school made life difficult enough that, on his second day back, Cas gave in and went in the wheelchair instead.

His teachers were impressed that he had been able to finish most of the work they’d sent back with Balthazar. Cas decided not to tell them that at first if he spent too much time on the work, it had given him a headache, and so he had spent whole days doing the work on and off.

Navigating the school took a lot out of him, though he didn’t want to admit it. As soon as he got home, he would do as much homework as he could before his vision started to swim, and then he would sleep until his father woke him for dinner. He still managed to finish all of his schoolwork, even if he was uncharacteristically irritable when he spent too long doing much of anything.

Cas only had one week of classes before they had a week off for Thanksgiving break. It annoyed him to be forced into time off again, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. At least his dad didn’t worry as much about leaving him alone now that Cas was significantly better.

The day before Thanksgiving, Hannah came home for the holiday. She hadn’t been shy about calling to check on her brother, but was still relieved to see that he was doing better when he opened the door for her, leaning heavily on one crutch instead of using both.

“How are you feeling?” she asked as she stepped inside.

“Better,” Cas said with a lopsided shrug as he followed Hannah down the hall.

“Good,” Hannah said. “How’re the hearing aids working?”

“Well, I can hear,” Cas said, reaching his free hand up to touch the bit of plastic behind his ear. He often played with the volume when he was bored; it never failed to make him smile when he made the sound in the world around him rise and fall in swells. “I fell asleep wearing them once though. One fell off and I thought I’d lost it.”

“Where was it?” Hannah asked.

“Under my pillow,” Cas said. He’d been so paranoid since then that he often took the aids out and set them on his nightstand as soon as he got home from school. As a consequence, his father had started flipping the lights when he needed to get Cas’ attention.

Cas stopped in the living room and sat heavily on the couch while Hannah went to her old room to set her things down.

“What time does dad get home?” Hannah asked as she reemerged from her room and joined Cas on the couch.

“Probably around six,” Cas said. “He’s been working a lot lately.”

“Does he have to work tomorrow?” Hannah asked.

Cas thought for a moment. “I don’t know. He might have to work in the morning.”

Hannah shook her head. “I wish he didn’t have to.”

Cas shrugged, his eyes focused blankly on the TV.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Hannah asked after a moment.

“What?” Cas asked, turning to his sister. “Oh, yeah, I’m okay. I’ve been back to school and everything.”

“But do you feel okay?” she asked.

“I feel _fine_ ,” Cas said.

Hannah studied him for another moment before giving in. “Alright,” she said. “If you say so.”

They watched bad daytime TV for an hour or so before Hannah couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed a book from her bag instead. She took a seat in the recliner instead of on the couch so she could put her feet up.

Not long after Hannah got her book, Cas turned the TV off and stretched out on the couch, removing the hearing aids and setting them carefully on the end table. Hannah had thought he was going to take a nap, but only a few minutes later, he replaced his hearing aids and propped himself up on his elbows so he could look at her.

“What does your soulmate sing to you?” he asked.

“What?” Hannah asked, caught off guard.

“Your soulmate, in your head,” Cas said. “What do they sing to you?”

“I’ve never answered that question, and I won’t start now,” Hannah said, suddenly defensive as she looked pointedly back at her book.

Cas thought for a moment. He’d remembered that he’d wanted to ask Hannah about her soulmate after Gabriel had mentioned that he had two and not one. Hannah was correct in saying that she’d never answered a question about her soulmate, and it had been years since Cas had asked.

“I can still hear my soulmate,” Cas said. He tried to sound casual, like this was a conversation he had all the time. “Without my hearing aids, he’s the only thing I _can_ hear. Clearly, anyway.”

“I’m glad,” Hannah said. She was obviously interested, but she continued to read her book.

“And I still see colors when he sings,” Cas added.

“Good for you, Cas,” Hannah said, turning the page loudly.

“Come on, Hannah, how come you won’t talk about it?” Cas asked, pushing himself up so he was sitting.

“I don’t want to,” she said.

“But why not?” Cas asked. “I don’t understand. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t want to talk about their soulmate. Even dad will talk about mom.”

The muscle in Hannah’s jaw was working, and Cas knew he was pushing it, but he couldn’t help it; he’d never gotten any kind of answer from Hannah about what was going on in her head. She was the only one he knew who would never answer anyone on the subject.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Hannah said. Her eyes were still trained on the page, but she obviously wasn’t reading anything.

“But _why_?” Cas asked. If nothing else, he wanted to understand why she wouldn’t talk about it.

Hannah slammed the book closed. “I don’t have one, alright?” she said, rounding on Cas so quickly he actually leaned away from her.

“You…what?”

“I hear myself, okay?” she said, sounding far more angry than upset. “It took a few years to figure out, since I hear my voice as it sounds to other people, but that’s it. No one else. Just me.”

“Oh,” Cas said, his voice small. He looked away from the angry expression on his sister’s face. “I’m sorry,” he added, though he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for.

“I’m not,” Hannah said, leaning back in the chair again. “I do just fine. The only thing that bothers me is everyone asking about it when it really isn’t that important.”

“I’m sorry Hannah,” Cas said again. “I’ll leave it alone.” Now was most definitely too late, but he meant it; he’d never bring it up again.

“Thank you,” she said, opening her book again.

Cas leaned back again. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before he removed his hearing aids again, deciding there was nothing worth listening to. He had decided that that was the silver lining that came from the accident – if he didn’t want to hear something, he didn’t have to.

He closed his eyes, listening to the voice in his head and watching the colors flash behind his lids, thinking for the first time that he was lucky to have someone singing to him. He didn’t think he’d want to spend the rest of his life alone, but maybe that was because he had proof in his head that he wouldn’t have to. Hannah certainly didn’t seem put-off by the prospect.

At some point he fell asleep without realizing it. The next thing he was aware of was his father shaking his shoulder gently to wake him for dinner.

Cas didn’t bring up the conversation he’d had with Hannah. When his father asked what they’d done that afternoon, Hannah simply said they watched TV for a while before she read her book and Cas took a nap.

“Have you been feeling okay Cas?” Chuck asked.

“I’m fine,” Cas said. He knew everyone was concerned, but it got old to be asked the same question almost every time he saw anyone. “My leg itches under the cast though, since you asked.”

“It’ll come off soon enough,” Chuck said. He had the date marked on the calendar.

“Didn’t you say something about writing a book?” Hannah asked, changing the subject.

“Yes I did,” Chuck said. The insurance had covered most of Cas’ stay at the hospital, but the leftover costs were still too much for Chuck to be able to handle. He’d had the idea for a book series for a while, and now seemed like a good time to actually work on it; if he could get it published, any extra money that came in would be more than welcome. Of course, he didn’t tell that to either of his children. “It’s coming along.”

“What’s it about?” Hannah asked.

“Two brothers,” Chuck said, “going cross-country to fight ghosts and monsters from a lot of urban legends.”

“Like vampires and werewolves?” Hannah asked.

“No,” Chuck replied. “I mean the legends they have out west that are a little less well-known.”

“Sounds interesting,” Hannah said. “What’s it called?”

“Supernatural.”

“I came up with it,” Cas chimed in.

“He did,” Chuck said with a shrug. “But it’s not even close to having any kind of substance yet.”

Later that night, Chuck started cooking for Thanksgiving the next day. Since he wouldn’t be home until just about dinner time, there wouldn’t be time to cook everything, and he didn’t want to leave Hannah and Cas responsible for the meal, though they still helped him where they could.

Cas slept late the next morning, and when he finally left his room he found Hannah sitting back in the recliner, reading her book that he figured must be something she had to read for class, since it didn’t look like the kind of thing someone would willingly pick up. The smell of the turkey cooking wafted in from the kitchen.

“You’re not going to watch the parade?” Cas asked.

Hannah shrugged. “You can put it on if you want.”

Cas sat on the couch and turned the TV on. The parade was already almost over, but he didn’t mind. Watching the parade was a tradition they’d had since his mother was still around. The thought weighed heavily on him, since this year his father wasn’t watching it either, and Hannah was only sneaking glances at it so she could finish her book.

Throughout the day, Hannah tended the turkey as it cooked. They finished making dishes that they hadn’t gotten to the night before. It would be too much for just the three of them, but it always was; there weren’t any aunts, uncles, or cousins to visit or have over. Sometimes friends came over for dinner, but not this year.

The turkey was done before Chuck got home, so they just turned the oven off and let it sit in there so it would stay warm. Hannah checked on it a few times, worried it would dry out.

Chuck managed to leave his shift early, so by the time they had the table set and they were seated for dinner, it was only a little later than they were used to eating.

*~*~*~*~*

As it turned out, Benny did play the drums. And not only did he _play_ them, he was _good_ at playing them. The first time Dean and Aaron and Jo went to his house for practice, they were blown away by how good he was, becoming a blur as he shifted in his seat to effortlessly strike at the drum heads.

Benny was a grade ahead of them and mostly kept to himself, which was why they’d never seen him in their circle of friends. Still, he was friendly, and open to playing pretty much whatever the others wanted to play. When they went over the ideas they’d had for their own songs, he proved himself to have a talent for writing lyrics, and his sense of rhythm was infallible. Jo claimed that it made him easier to write with than Aaron and Dean.

One day at school, about a week after Benny had joined their group, there was an announcement that the fall talent show would take place the week before Thanksgiving and students were encouraged to sign up.

Dean glanced over at Aaron in the seat next to him, raising a quizzical eyebrow. Aaron shrugged in response, but Dean could tell he was at least considering it.

At lunch, Aaron found Benny and Dean found Jo so the four of them could sit together.

“You heard there’s a talent show before Thanksgiving, right?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I heard,” Jo said, taking a bite of her lunch.

“Now I have,” Benny said. “What about it?”

“What about it?” Dean asked, incredulous. “We should enter, that’s what.”

“Why?” Benny asked. He wasn’t one who got excited about participating in school-sponsored events.

“First prize is a hundred dollars,” Aaron pointed out.

Benny seemed to consider it for a moment. “So you want me to go for a chance to win twenty-five dollars?” he asked. “That’s what it’d be, right? We split it?”

“Sure,” Dean said. “They said it should only take an hour after school.”

“We could always just use it as practice,” Jo suggested. “No harm in that.”

Jo, Aaron, and Dean, being in silent agreement, all looked to Benny for his answer.

After a moment, Benny sighed. “Sure, what the hell. I’m in.”

In the two weeks between then and the talent show, they practiced nearly every day. They worked on writing a song to perform, so they wouldn’t have to do a cover of anything. Well, Jo and Benny did most of the writing.

On the day of the talent show, they used their free period to make sure there were drums and a piano backstage in the auditorium for Benny and Jo. Benny grumbled about the drum set, but after a few minutes of rehearsing, he had himself adjusted to the feel of the set. Jo had a similar time with the piano that was set up. Dean and Aaron tried not to act too smug about being able to bring their own guitars with only the need to put them in the costume lockers backstage.

Their families showed up to watch, which made Dean’s mouth run dry, which worried him more because he was performing lead vocals and he couldn’t afford to have his voice scratch out of his throat.

Aaron found him backstage in a private corner and handed him a water bottle. “You’ll be fine,” he said.

Dean took a swig from the bottle. “I don’t know. There’re a lot of people out there.”

“And you’re better than all of them,” Aaron said. He smiled at Dean’s surprised look and placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

Dean nodded, leaning forward in what was probably an unconscious motion. In any case, his eyes were not looking at Aaron’s.

Aaron smiled and leaned forward to give Dean a chaste kiss for just a moment. “I’ll see you onstage,” he said, squeezing Dean’s shoulder reassuringly before he turned to leave. Then he seemed to think better of it and turned around so he was walking backwards. “If you aren’t onstage in ten seconds, I’ll drag your ass out there.”

Dean grinned and took another drink of water before he grabbed his guitar and made his way onstage.

They won to a standing ovation.

And in case that wasn’t accomplishment enough, one of the faculty members approached them after the show and asked if they’d be willing to play at an event the weekend after Thanksgiving. It wasn’t going to be very big; there would be games and crafts and music for anyone who wanted to come.

It sounded better than sitting around doing nothing, so they agreed.

The Sunday before Thanksgiving, Dean and Aaron were sitting in Dean’s garage in their usual seats. The whole band had practiced the day before, and Benny and Jo were unavailable for the day.

There was a comfortable silence in the garage. The two had managed, so far, to keep their relationship a secret. It wasn’t hard, considering not much in their dynamic had changed. Sometimes they ended up sitting closer than usual, so their thighs touched. They tried not to in public, but they’d begun to gravitate toward each other more in the past few weeks. They didn’t go out in public together too much.

“Are you ready for this weekend?” Aaron asked.

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know about ready, but I’m looking forward to it,” he said. He’d never admit that he was still terrified of performing in front of a large crowd of people, but he had a feeling Aaron could tell anyway. “I can’t even believe someone wants us to play at all.”

“I know what you mean,” Aaron said.

“You do?”

“Yeah. You were totally flat on that last chorus,” Aaron said casually.

“I was not,” Dean said indignantly, kicking Aaron’s foot.

Aaron laughed. “Touchy touchy,” he said.

Dean shifted his chair so he was sitting beside Aaron instead of across from him. “I think you’re the one who was flat,” he said, glancing slyly over at the other boy as his fingers absently plucked at the strings of his guitar.

“Not possible,” Aaron said, mustering up the most high-brow attitude he could manage.

“No, I think I would know,” Dean said, pursing his lips and striking a chord as if to drive his point home.

Aaron laughed again. “I still stand by what I said.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll beat you in a duel.”

“Not possible,” Dean said with a confident shake of his head.

“Prove it,” Aaron said, playing a relatively simple string of notes.

Dean raised a brow and repeated the notes.

The call and response went on for a few minutes, and Aaron leaned progressively closer as they played. Dean kept an eye on him, wondering what his angle was as the strings of notes became faster and more complex.

After Aaron played a particularly difficult call, Dean paused for a moment, remembering the pattern before he looked down at the guitar to concentrate on his playing and not on how close Aaron was.

He was about halfway through the response when he felt Aaron’s breath on his jaw, followed by the soft brush of lips. Dean grit his teeth and almost fumbled the notes, but he managed to make it through to the end.

“You play dirty,” Dean said, throwing an accusing look over at Aaron.

“It almost worked too,” Aaron replied with a wicked gleam in his eye. He hadn’t moved back.

Dean rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his face that he couldn’t fight away. “You can’t beat me,” Dean said arrogantly. He tilted his head closer so their noses were almost touching.

“Maybe not,” Aaron ceded, frowning thoughtfully. “I _can_ do something else though.”

Dean raised an eyebrow in challenge, his head tilting incrementally.

Aaron smirked and leaned in, sealing their mouths together.

Dean had decided he liked kissing. And he especially liked kissing Aaron, even if he had no basis for comparison. He felt Aaron’s hand on his cheek and grinned against Aaron’s mouth.

The only problem with this whole arrangement was that sometimes Dean became hyperaware of the singing in the back of his mind, and he would immediately feel guilty. But he could never think of why that might be. Was it even possible to cheat on someone you’d never met?

Yet here he was, feeling his conscience grip his heart. He pulled back far enough that Aaron’s hand fell away and he stared at the floor for a moment.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked, his voice concerned.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his head.

Aaron hesitated for a moment. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure you want to keep doing this?” Aaron asked. He didn’t want to keep it up if it was going to keep making Dean uncomfortable like this.

“Yes,” Dean said. “Just…not right now.”

Aaron nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said, scooting his chair away by a few inches and going back to strumming on his bass.

Dean shook his head to clear it before going back to playing.


	9. Chapter 9

Cas was relieved when he finally got the cast off his leg, even if it did lead to a pronounced limp that took far longer to go away than he wanted.

It took a little longer for his head to heal. It was only after the start of the New Year that he felt completely like himself again, though he had days where he had headaches or was irritable or tired until after his seventeenth birthday in mid-April, when it was finally determined that he had made a full recovery.

When he signed up for classes for the following year, he discovered that the school would be offering American Sign Language as an elective. This would be the first year it would be offered, and he jumped at the chance to take it.

In the summer between his junior and senior years, he didn’t have much to do. He volunteered part-time at the library, shelving volumes that had been left on tables or that were returned. It didn’t get him a paycheck, but it did provide him with extra time to read; as long as no one was actively seeking his attention and nothing needed to be shelved, he sat behind the front desk and read.

Since that day when he was six, he’d read through most of the psychology section. He kept searching through the same books for something he might have missed as to why his soulmate’s synaesthesia would be coming through in his own mind, but he couldn’t find anything. After some digging, he’d managed to find publications about people with more than one soulmate, and people with soulmates who were platonic instead of romantic, even one sparse pamphlet about the rare individuals who heard themselves instead of others, but nothing on synesthetes and their soulmates. Even after eleven years, he refused to believe that he’d missed one, and so he kept looking.

“ _There_ you are.”

Cas was sitting against a shelf with a book open on his lap. His shift had ended an hour before, but since he didn’t need to be home until dinner, he’d decided to stick around and get some reading done. He started at the sound of the voice, and when he glanced up, he noticed Balthazar leaning on the shelf above him. “Hey,” Cas said. “Were you looking for me?”

“Yeah. Gabriel and I wanted to see if you wanted to come to the arcade with us,” Balthazar said, eyeing the book Cas had been reading. “Still looking for your soulmate-color thing?”

Cas shrugged, putting the book back in its place. “I doubt I’ll actually find something,” he said as he stood and brushed imaginary dust from his jeans.

“But you keep looking,” Balthazar pointed out.

“I know. I can’t help it,” Cas said. He ran his hand over the spines on the shelves. He’d read each book at least twice, though on a few he’d more skimmed them than read them.

“So it’s time for a break,” Balthazar said brightly. “Come on.”

Cas shushed him, but followed toward the door. “It’s a library; you have to keep your voice down.”

“I’m not that loud Cassie,” Balthazar said with a grin.

Cas rolled his eyes. “If _I_ can say you’re too loud, you’re too loud,” he said dryly.

Balthazar glanced back at him for a moment, his face falling marginally. Cas noticed a flash of guilt across his friend’s face, and an awkward silence stretched between them.

Cas had been trying to play off his hearing loss lightly, at least around Balthazar. He’d finally gotten Balthazar to stop treating him like he was about to break, but sometimes he forgot just how guilty his friend still felt about the whole incident, even though it had happened almost a year before.

“Is Gabriel meeting us there?” Cas asked after they’d walked in silence for a few minutes.

Balthazar nodded. “He’s driving,” he said. Cas could tell he was trying to be offhand about it, but he knew that the thought still made Balthazar nervous.

In the weeks immediately following the accident, getting into a car at all was almost enough to send Balthazar into a breakdown. The first time he’d gotten behind the wheel again, he'd had an anxiety attack before he could even turn the ignition, and he hadn’t tried to drive since. At his mother’s insistence, he was taken to see a psychologist, over the protestations of his father. Balthazar was glad he had gone; the doctor helped him cope with the anxiety he felt when he had to ride in a car, though he still refused to drive one.

Cas still couldn’t remember the accident, though bits and pieces had come back to him. He remembered approaching headlights; he remembered being pinned in the backseat of the car with his left leg wedged between the bent door and the driver’s seat; he remembered sirens. He had only recently learned that his heart had stopped for three minutes, and he still wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Riding in cars still made him nervous to a certain extent, but as long as he didn’t ride behind the driver he didn’t feel too bad. He hadn’t driven since the accident, partly because of the concussion, partly because the idea of driving did freak him out a little.

Gabriel didn’t have the same qualms about driving that Cas and Balthazar did. Riding in a car didn’t even seem to affect him. He still had nightmares about the crash; they all did; but his torment seemed confined to his dreams, rarely making an appearance in a car unless the driver accelerated too quickly.

Despite their varying degrees of willingness, or lack thereof, to get behind the wheel of a car, their lives had largely returned to normal. In fact, there were some days when it seemed like the only lasting aftereffect of the accident was Cas’ hearing loss.

The feelings of normalcy only increased throughout their senior year. Even Cas’ hearing loss became some kind of normal, especially when he helped them learn ASL as he learned it and they could communicate even when Cas didn’t wear his hearing aids.

On the weekends, Cas began to not even bother with his aids. He simply didn’t need them; he wasn’t working, he rarely turned the TV on, and he and his father both knew enough ASL to be able to communicate comfortably. Any friends who would come over also knew enough that they could talk to each other, unless they were classmates he didn’t know well who were coming over to work on a project, in which case he would retrieve the hearing aids from their place on his nightstand when his classmates arrived, and replace the aids when they left.

The first time Hannah was home after the start of Cas’ senior year was for Thanksgiving. Cas hadn’t bothered with the aids the whole break, and the day Hannah arrived home was no exception. He hugged her in greeting when he opened the door for her, but when he pulled back he noticed her confused expression. He realized she must have asked him something that he hadn’t heard.

“Sorry,” he said, hoping he was speaking clearly and not too loud, as he had learned he had started speaking too loudly and slurring his speech slightly when he didn’t have his hearing aids. “Just a minute. I can’t hear you.”

Hannah followed him to his room and watching him set the aids in place. “Why don’t you wear them?” she asked.

“I do,” Cas said, his hands fluttering as he signed along with his speech. “I’m learning ASL, so when all I’m doing is staying home, I don’t wear them.”

“What about dad?” Hannah asked.

“I’m teaching him too,” Cas replied. “I can use ASL all the time while I talk, so I practice all the time. We know enough that we can talk to each other.”

Hannah watched her brother’s hands work in front of him, sometimes working together, sometimes working independently. It was amazing to watch. “Why don’t you teach me too, while I’m here?”

Cas brightened, and they spent the rest of the day catching up in the living room while Cas intermittently explained the signs he knew. All through their conversations, Cas’ hands kept moving.

When Chuck returned home later that day, he announced that he’d gotten the next day off, so he would be home for Thanksgiving.

Over dinner, they talked about anything and everything. Cas had started to look into which colleges he might want to go to and what he might want to study. Hannah had an increased work load with the internship she’d picked up for the school year, even though she was in her senior year and had advanced course work. Chuck had finished the book he’d been writing, and he was making final edits before he considered finding an agent to start trying to get it published.

Cas was struck by how different this Thanksgiving would be from the last one. The mood was so different, so much lighter. He remembered the year before, when his leg had still been in a cast and his head still hurt and he would sleep eight hours a night and three in the afternoon. He remembered that his father hadn’t been home until Thanksgiving dinner, and this year they’d all be home for the whole of Thanksgiving Day. It was almost a relief to think of how much better this year would be than the previous one.

*~*~*~*~*

Dean couldn’t believe how good they were getting. Not that they had been bad before, of course; they were really growing on each other, and the chemistry they had as a group came through on the stage.

They were offered gigs with increasing frequency. Jo and Benny seemed to have no trouble at all coming up with new songs, though Dean knew they spent every spare moment they had getting ideas down.

Even though they were only performing intermittently, they got enough attention that Benny decided to forego college, at least through the next year, to see whether the band would work out as sustainable in the long run.

“What’s the plan for after y’all graduate?” Benny asked one day at practice. It was the middle of summer, and they were practicing in Benny’s basement instead of his garage in an attempt to stay cool.

“We should have enough money by the time we graduate to get a demo recorded and sent out,” Jo said. She was the one who had started taking care of the meager paychecks they’d started to receive just a little after the new year had started. After they’d played in the park the previous November, they’d been invited to play for a holiday event in December, and they’d been paid the first time in January, when someone hired them to play a New Year’s party the first weekend in January. Jo had immediately decided to split the earnings five ways – an equal share each for the four of them, and an extra share set aside for the band itself.

“Sure, but what if it doesn’t get picked up?” Benny asked. “What then?”

A thoughtful silence descended on them. They had to consider that Benny, who had already graduated, would be at more of a disadvantage in trying to get back into a school routine than the rest of them at the end of the next school year.

“I’m willing to take time off to keep doing this,” Dean finally said. When they’d started having success, he hadn’t really considered doing much else. He had always wanted to go work with his dad in the garage anyway, and hadn’t thought about going to college all that much. As far as he was concerned, Sam had always been the one destined to go to college to make something of himself while Dean would continue with the family business.

“Yeah, but Benny has a point,” Aaron said reasonably. “If nothing gets picked up, we just keep playing around town, and we can’t really survive on that.”

“How about this,” Jo suggested, “after the rest of us graduate, we take the summer to try to get somewhere. If it doesn’t work out by the end of the summer, we split up the leftover money we have and move on.”

Dean looked around the circle as everyone considered this idea. He really didn’t want to stop seeing everyone so often, but he understood why they would need to move on; none of them deserved to keep doing something they didn’t feel would be fulfilling for them.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Benny said, breaking the silence. “I can’t wait too much longer than that anyway before I at least need to start paying rent.”

“I second,” Aaron said.

“Yeah, it makes sense,” Dean added.

When they were in agreement, they went back to practicing. However, even with the A/C on, it was too warm to be comfortable in the basement, and they ended up deciding to finish early and went upstairs to play video games until it was time to leave. Jo won most of the games they played.

Dean had been invited to Aaron’s for dinner, so they walked together, since Aaron’s house wasn’t far from Benny’s.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked not long after they’d left Benny’s. “You seemed weird after practice.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dean said. He felt Aaron staring at him, and he knew Aaron didn’t believe him. “I just don’t want to think about it ending. I like playing with you guys, you know?”

Aaron was quiet a moment before he said, “Yeah, I know what you mean.” Then a thought seemed to come to him. “What were you planning to do after school? Before we started doing this?”

“You mean the band? Or me and you?” Dean asked, glancing over at the boy walking next to him.

“Both, I guess.”

Dean shrugged. “I always thought I’d do what my dad does. Keep up with the family business, or something. And at some point fate would bring my soulmate here, and, I don’t know, we’d live happily ever after or some shit,” he said, and he chuckled at himself. “Seems kinda childish, now that I think about it.” He looked over to see Aaron watching him. “What about you?”

“I thought I’d go to college, probably for business or something like that,” Aaron said, smiling slightly at the thought. “And then I’d meet my soulmate and, I don’t know, we’d live happily ever after or some shit.”

Dean laughed, and it made his mood lighten immediately. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he said.

“What do you think now?” Aaron asked.

“I don’t know what I think,” Dean admitted. In truth, he wanted to think that this band would be successful and he’d be able to get at least a few years to travel and make music and have fun with his friends, but he still wasn’t sure that that would even happen, as Benny had pointed out at practice. As far as his soulmate, he had no idea what to think. He wasn’t under the illusion that he’d get to keep Aaron forever; he wasn’t even trying to kid himself into thinking he’d still have Aaron at the end of the week. Their relationship had been something of an on-again, off-again dynamic, with long stretches of time passing where they wouldn’t see each other much outside of practices, though they were still friends, which were offset by times where, like now, they would visit each other’s houses for dinner or homework or video games. The timing seemed entirely reliant on how weird Dean felt about being with Aaron and hearing someone else's voice singing to him. He could tell Aaron didn’t feel guilty about their relationship; the only time Aaron seemed to feel anything negative about their new dynamic was when he thought it was his fault Dean didn't know whether he wanted to continue or end their relationship.

“I don’t either,” Aaron said, dragging Dean from his thoughts.

“Don’t what?” Dean asked, having lost the direction of the conversation when his thoughts had wandered.

“I don’t know what to think either,” Aaron said. “The last year changed a lot of things. I don’t know what to think of them.”

After dinner, Dean found himself on the couch with Aaron, watching Star Wars Episode IV. Aaron lived with his grandfather, who, without fail, went to bed immediately after dinner. They’d been in this situation before, and at first it had felt strange to be left alone with someone he was in this kind of relationship with, but with time the awkwardness had passed.

Aaron was leaning against the armrest, and Dean was stretched out with his head leaning against Aaron. Aaron’s arm was wrapped lazily around Dean, his fingers idly tracing circles on Dean’s arm or side.

“Is this okay?” Aaron asked, tightening his grip on Dean momentarily to indicate what he was talking about.

“Yeah, it’s good,” Dean replied, moving in closer despite the already pronounced lack of space between them.

When the movie ended, they put in the next one; it was only just after eight, and Dean’s curfew wasn’t until midnight. After Aaron popped the movie into the VHS, he rearranged their positions on the couch so he could stretch out as well, with Dean right up against him. They didn’t watch much of the second half of the movie.

Dean didn’t want to stay for Episode VI, afraid that he wouldn’t have enough time to get home afterwards. He fixed his hair as Aaron walked him home, and he was lucky that none of their clothes came off; they never did; so he didn’t have to worry about making sure they were still presentable.

His mom was still awake when he walked in. She usually stayed up reading until almost midnight, especially when she found a book she especially liked. His dad was already asleep so he could get up early for work the next day.

“How was your day?” Mary asked, setting her book down when Dean stopped by the living room to let her know he was home.

“Good. Jo and Benny have a great song written that we’re going to start next time,” Dean replied.

“I can’t wait to hear it,” she said, smiling. “How was dinner?”

“Dinner was pasta. It’s hard to screw up pasta,” Dean said. “Then we watched Star Wars.”

“Well, it sounds like you had a good time,” Mary said.

“Yeah, but I gotta get to sleep. Long day.”

“Alright. Goodnight Dean. I love you.”

“Love you too,” Dean said. He made his way down the hall to his room, taking his shirt off as he went.

Dean had changed into his pajamas and was just about to get into bed when he heard a knock at his bedroom door. He stifled a yawn as he pulled it open.

“Heya Sammy,” Dean said. “It’s late. What do you want?”

Sam shifted on his feet for a moment. He looked like he’d been tossing and turning while he waited up for Dean, his hair sticking up in forty-two different directions. “Were you with Aaron?” he asked cautiously.

“Uh, yeah, I was,” Dean replied. He noticed the light in the living room had been turned off, and he lowered his voice for fear of waking his parents up. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Are you two, um... together?” Sam asked, his voice hushed. His face turned pink in the light from the window on the wall.

“That’s none of your concern,” Dean said sternly, though he felt his own face heat up. He noticed a change in Sam’s face that said Sam could tell he was avoiding the answer Sam had already figured out. Sammy’d always been too smart for his own good.

“Dean, what about your soulmate?” Sam asked.

“People don’t _need_ to wait for their soulmates, Sammy,” Dean said, trying to keep his voice level and quiet, hoping he sounded casual. He just wanted to get to sleep.

“Yeah, but-”

“Sam, I don’t want to talk about it.” Dean’s voice was iron, leaving no room to argue. “It isn’t any of your business.”

Sam hesitated, shifting his weight again. “Okay,” he said. He was watching Dean thoughtfully, as if trying to read what was going on in his big brother’s mind; Dean was usually so open about things with him, and Sam couldn’t figure out why his brother would suddenly shut off a part of their conversations.

“Goodnight Sam,” Dean said pointedly.

“Goodnight Dean.” Sam stood outside the door for a moment after it closed before he made his way back to his room.

Dean didn’t leave the door until he heard Sam’s quiet footsteps pad down the hall to the next room. When he curled up in bed, his mind was awake enough to counter whatever fatigue his body felt. It really wasn’t any of Sam’s business what he did with his personal life, but Dean couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing his little brother. Why did the universe insist on making this complicated for him?


	10. Chapter 10

Cas graduated fifth in his class - higher than he’d thought he would be ranked. Gabriel and Balthazar had both ranked in the top quarter in a class of about three hundred students.

There was a graduation party at Gabriel’s house right after the ceremony. Cas almost hadn’t gone, not really being the type of person to go out to parties. Besides, Gabriel had more friends than he did, and Cas wouldn’t know at least half the people there. In the end, though, Gabriel talked him into it; Gabriel was going to be going to school more than six hours away, and with the work he’d be doing over the summer, they likely wouldn’t have much time to see each other until a break that was long enough for Gabriel to justify driving home.

The party wasn’t as crowded as Cas had expected, though there were still more people than he was comfortable being around for extended periods of time. He found his friend Rachel early on in the night and the two of them stayed out of the more crowded areas for most of the night. They mostly talked about school and college, as they usually did; academics was the subject they each had the most to talk about to each other. Rachel was going to study Business out of state on scholarship.

“Where are you going to go?” she asked when she felt she’d talked about herself enough for one night. “What are you going to study?”

Cas shifted on his feet. “I’ll be at Yale. Studying Psychology,” he said.

Rachel blinked at him for a moment before she broke into a grin. “Cas! That’s great,” she said, practically bouncing. “Will you be living on campus?”

Cas shook his head. “We live close enough that I got permission to stay at home, to cut costs,” he said.

“Did you get a scholarship?” she asked. Then she seemed to think better of it and shook her head as she waved the question away. “Who am I kidding? You were fifth in our class; of course you got a scholarship.”

A small smile crossed Cas’ face, and he ducked his head. “Yeah, I have a scholarship,” he said.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you!” Rachel exclaimed. She wrapped him in a hug, which was not a reaction Cas expected from her, but he hugged her back anyway.

“Thank you,” Cas said, still smiling. “I’m happy for you too.”

When they pulled apart, Cas noticed Gabriel on the other side of the room and beckoned him over.

“I assume everyone’s enjoying the party?” Gabriel said when he was close enough.

“As much as it is possible for me to enjoy a party,” Cas said. His voice was dry, but his face was amused.

Gabriel snorted and rolled his eyes. “You’re having a good time,” he said. His eyes slid over to Rachel, and he shook his head. “Are you two talking about school again? You’re not supposed to talk about school at a party at all, but _especially_ not a _graduation_ party.”

Rachel shrugged. “You’re the one who invited scholars to a party,” she pointed out.

Gabriel sighed dramatically. “I suppose that means it’s my fault,” he said.

“Yes,” Rachel said, smiling with one side of her mouth.

“I knew I should have kept you two apart,” Gabriel said with a smirk. He glanced back at Cas. “Why don’t you go find Balthazar, hmm? He’d get you to loosen up.”

“I assure you,” Cas said, his voice bordering on formal, “wherever Balthazar is is not a place I want to be.” In fact, he could just see Balthazar on the other side of the room, dancing with at least two other people; it was hard to tell in the crowd.

Rachel glanced around and noticed Balthazar on the other side of the room, and she tried to stifle a giggle, only kind of succeeding. “Yeah, that’s not a place we would see Cas in the wild,” she said, nodding toward the group.

Gabriel threw his head back and laughed. “No, I guess not.”

Rachel noticed a group of her friends waving to her from the next room, and excused herself.

“I should probably get going,” Cas said, watching her leave.

“What?” Gabriel asked, his brows knitting together. “Come on, I know it’s not really your thing, but it’s not that bad, is it?”

“That party’s fine,” Cas assured him. “But it’s after midnight. I’m tired.”

“Okay, buzz kill,” Gabriel said, the side of his mouth quirking up in a smirk. He smacked Cas’ arm good-naturedly. “Drop by sometime before I have to leave,” he added, pointing at Cas as he walked away.

“We’ll have a proper sendoff,” Cas called after him, a grin spreading across his face.

The rest of the summer passed in a blur. Cas spent a lot of time in the library, but not as much as he had previously. He’d accepted that he’d exhausted his resources and wouldn’t find what he was looking for, and instead spent his time browsing the other sections between his shifts (and often during his shift, if he could get away with it as he had the year before).

Hannah tried to come home to visit, but she’d graduated a month before Cas, and she’d found a job writing for a newspaper just outside of Boston, which didn’t leave much time for her to visit whenever she wanted to. She made it home for Cas’ graduation ceremony, but they didn’t see her for some time after that, though she called occasionally.

The week before Gabriel had to leave, he and Cas and Balthazar spent a day watching movies and eating junk food at Balthazar’s house, as they’d done in Middle School. They talked about anything and nothing, trying to forget that this was the last time they’d all be in a room together for several months.

Cas tried not to think about the fact that he’d still be at home without most of his friends. He’d still be in the same town, but nearly everyone he knew would be going somewhere else. Gabriel would be six hours away, Rachel would be three. Hannah was in Boston starting her own life. Balthazar was taking a gap year and he’d be traveling with some of his friends, though he wouldn’t be driving; he’d learned to manage riding in a car, but he was starting to doubt that he’d drive again in the next decade; he couldn’t deal with being behind the wheel and being responsible for the passengers’ safety.

Home just wasn’t going to be the same without everyone; Cas almost thought it would have been easier to find a school that was out of state, or at least far enough away that he’d have to move.

When the day came for Gabriel to leave, Cas and Balthazar showed up to say good-bye.

“Try not to forget about us,” Balthazar said dryly, a smirk on his face.

Gabriel snorted as he shoved the last box into his trunk. His parents were standing at the garage, just behind him.

“We know we’re very forgettable people,” Balthazar continued theatrically, his face dropping to the one he used when he was trying to look pathetic. “But, if you could find it in your heart-”

“Oh shut up,” Gabriel interrupted, walking over to them after slamming the trunk closed, his eyes bright as he smacked Balthazar lightly on the back of his head.

Balthazar laughed. Cas did too.

“So you won’t forget us?” Balthazar asked, managing to force his features into a pitiful expression.

Gabriel dropped his gaze and shook his head. When he looked back up, he said, “Balthazar, I don’t think it’s _physically possible_ to forget you.”

“Oh, _I_ know that. I just wanted to make sure you knew,” Balthazar said, smiling.

Gabriel huffed a laugh, half of his mouth turning up.

“Come back and visit sometime,” Cas said. “You know, so we know _definitively_ that you cannot _physically_ forget us.”

“Pay my gas, and you have a deal,” Gabriel countered, shrugging.

Cas grinned and held up his hands as if in surrender. “Whoa, hold on. We might not need _that_ much proof.”

“I didn’t think so,” Gabriel laughed. “I’ll be back as soon as there’s a break longer than three days.”

“I’ll be here,” Cas said.

The silence that stretched after that was heavy and awkward, and they could all feel it settling on their shoulders.

“So, uh,” Gabriel said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I should get going. It’s a long drive.”

“Yeah, probably,” Cas said, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“Drive safe,” Balthazar added.

They said their good-byes, and Cas was more upset than he had thought he would be. Even though he knew Gabriel would be back, it felt strange to be seeing Gabriel off as he starting the next chapter of his life, somewhere else.

Cas and Balthazar stood with Gabriel’s parents for a moment as they watched Gabriel’s car disappear down the street. When the car was well and truly gone, they said a quick good-bye and made their way down the street. They weren’t sure where they were going, since going anywhere without Gabriel seemed too strange at the moment. They walked until the end of the block, where they split up and went their separate ways.

*~*~*~*~*

Sitting through the graduation ceremony was easily the most boring thing Dean had done that year. He didn’t want to sit through speeches; he just wanted to get some sleep. He’d been up since six that morning so he would have time to practice before everyone came over and expected him to be social.

Bobby and Ellen and Jo had come over, and so had Grandma Deanna. Grandpa Henry showed up around lunch time, which was impressive because Dean hadn’t thought he’d be there, since John didn’t always get along with Henry.

“You’re my grandson, and you’re graduating high school,” Henry had said when Dean mentioned he hadn’t thought Henry would show up. “I’d never miss this.”

Everyone knew about the band, but that hadn’t stopped anyone from asking what Dean wanted to do after high school. Dean hated that question; even if the band didn’t work out, he had always planned on working in the garage with his dad and Bobby, and he was sure everyone knew that too. And besides, he was only eighteen; how was he supposed to have his whole life worked out at this point?

At least Jo and Sam had been there too; they always made things easier for Dean to deal with.

“So, Dean,” Grandma Deanna had asked during the drive to the graduation ceremony, “have you found your soulmate yet?”

Dean had stiffened in his seat. “No, grandma,” he said, souring. Deanna was a hopeless romantic, even if she never openly admitted it, and she had asked that question at least once every time she visited for as long as Dean could remember.

He still hadn’t told anyone about Aaron, and it didn’t seem like he would at any point in the near future. Part of his reasoning was that it wasn’t worth it, but it was also because he didn’t feel like dealing with his family’s reaction; he wasn’t sure how any of them felt about a relationship with a person who wasn’t your soulmate. Sure, Sam had pretty much figured it out, but Dean was adamant about not giving him a straight answer, and Sam had finally given up pressing his brother for answers. Dean could tell Sam knew, but he also knew Sam wouldn’t say anything until he had a definitive answer, which he didn’t.

Dean found Aaron and Jo before they took their seats, and they talked about nothing for the half hour or so they had before they would have to get in line to walk to their seats. The ceremony itself dragged enough that Dean felt his eyelids threaten to close on him more than once. With the last name ‘Winchester,’ he’d be one of the last to graduate. Aaron and Jo were lucky, being near the beginning of the alphabet.

When his row was finally allowed to stand and make their way to the stage, Dean breathed a sigh of relief, because at least it was almost over.

By the time they got home, it was nearly midnight, and Dean was practically sleep-walking. He managed to change into his pajamas before he plopped on his bed, and he only just remembered to turn his alarm on before he fell asleep.

The next day, he was up early again; it was the day the band would finally be able to record some of their music. The thought made Dean nervous, but he managed to shove his nerves behind a concrete wall in his mind by the time he got to Aaron’s to pick him up.

“You ready for this?” Aaron asked as he slid into the passenger seat.

“Define ‘ready’,” Dean said as he put the car in gear and pulled back onto the road.

“’Ready,’ adjective,” Aaron started thoughtfully.

Dean snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean,” he said.

“Yeah I do,” Aaron said, a smile spreading across his face. He shifted in his seat and leaned his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes. “Wake me up when we get there, yeah?”

“Fine,” Dean said, stifling a yawn.

Jo had a similar idea about sleeping on the way there, so Dean drove into downtown in silence and tried not to let his eyelids droop too much. He found Benny’s truck parked outside the address they’d been given and pulled into the spot beside him. He woke Aaron and Jo when the car was parked.

“Long day?” Benny asked with a smirk when they stepped out of the car.

Jo shot a glare in his direction. He knew they had had graduation the day before and therefore wouldn’t have gotten in until late. He just liked to rub it in that he had graduated the year before.

“Can we _not_ argue this early in the morning?” Dean asked, yawning. “They’d better have coffee in there,” he added.

They did have coffee. Dean knew he really shouldn’t drink it if he was going to be singing, but he was too tired to care at the moment. He drained two cups before they’d been there for ten minutes.

The producer introduced herself as Anna. Her bright red hair was pinned out of her face and she wore a pantsuit, giving the impression that she wasn’t going to give them an inch or try to be their friend. Dean liked that. It would be weird, he thought, if she tried to make friends with them.

They ended up staying far longer than Dean had thought they would, and he was ravenous by the time they finished. Benny had to get to work, so he told the others good-bye and went on his way. Dean and Aaron and Jo grabbed lunch at a café in town.

“I think that went well,” Jo said after they’d found seats by the window that took up one whole wall.

“I think it was weird,” Dean said around a bite of food.

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to talk with your mouth full?” Jo asked him, looking disgusted.

Dean scowled at her and made a show of swallowing his food.

 “We didn’t sound any worse than we usually do,” Aaron interrupted, shifting their attention in an attempt to prevent them from going after each other. “And she didn’t say we were hopeless.”

“She didn’t say we were destined for greatness either,” Jo countered.

Aaron shrugged. “We lived.”

“That’s all I was going for,” Dean chimed in.

“Then it was a success,” Aaron said, cracking a smile.

Jo rolled her eyes. “I just hope we get a job out of it.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Dean said.

They finished their lunch in silence, and when Dean got home after dropping Jo and Aaron at their own houses, he collapsed onto his bed in a heap. Sam had to wake him for dinner.

His family inevitably asked how it went. Dean said he thought it went well, though he didn’t have a frame of reference for recording music.

Through the summer, while the group alternated between stressing out over the demo they’d recorded and pretending they weren’t thinking about it at all, they practiced together as often as they could. Sometimes it was difficult to find a day, since Benny had his work in town and Dean had started working in the garage part-time with his dad. They had a gig most weekends.

“Do you have a school picked out?” Jo asked at practice one day.

“School?” Dean asked, glancing up at her.

“Yeah. You know, in case we don’t get a call?” she elaborated.

“Oh,” Dean said, and shook his head. “I think I’ll stick with the garage if nothing happens.”

Jo furrowed her brow at him for a moment before she turned to Aaron and Benny. “What about you two?”

“I’ve looked around,” Aaron said noncommittally. He’d looked at a few colleges and universities, but he hadn’t considered going with any seriousness.

Benny just shrugged. “I’ll look after the summer ends, I guess,” he said. In truth, he wasn’t sure he’d be going to school at all. He had a cousin in Louisiana he could live with, working in the swamps. He didn’t think that’d be so bad.

Jo rolled her eyes. “We only have two weeks until the fifteenth,” she pointed out. August fifteenth was the date they had set on; if that date passed without any prospects, they’d start looking at schools and taking the band less seriously.

“Let’s just play, okay Jo?” Dean asked quietly. He didn’t want to think about only having two weeks left to play as a group.

Those two weeks flew by, and Dean became more agitated as the days passed. Every time the phone rang, he rushed to pick it up. But every time the person on the other end didn’t have the news he was waiting for, he felt disappointment settling on him.

On the fourteenth, the phone rang while Dean was home alone. His dad was at work, his mom was out to lunch, and Sam was over at Kevin’s house. Dean glanced up at the phone on its hook from his place on the couch. He watched it until it stopped ringing.

The house had been quiet for ten seconds when the phone rang again. Figuring it must be important, Dean stood and crossed to the kitchen. He listened to the ringing for a moment before he took the phone down and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Good! I was starting to think you were out or something and I was going to have to call back tonight,” an excited voice said.

“Aaron?” Dean asked. He sounded happy. Dean tried not to get his hopes up.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Aaron said. “Benny got a call. Someone liked it.”

Dean blinked for a moment, not sure what to say. “Liked the demo?” he asked. It was the first thing that came to mind.

“ _Yes_ ,” Aaron said emphatically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone!


	11. Chapter 11

“You’re not allowed to get shitfaced,” Jo said, pulling Dean’s third beer out of his hand.

“Come on Jo,” Dean said, bordering on whining. “I’m not drunk.”

Jo raised an eyebrow at him. He might not be _drunk_ , but he was certainly almost there; she was pretty sure he was having trouble sitting up straight.

“Just because it’s your twenty-first birthday doesn’t mean you get to drink yourself stupid,” Jo countered. She pulled the beer further away from him when Dean swiped at it. She tried not to look too amused when the movement almost made him fall off the bar stool.

Dean scowled at her and turned to ask the bartender for another drink.

“No more for him,” Aaron said when the bartender nodded at Dean.

“You too Aaron?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Aaron said, standing and putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Come on. We have a show tomorrow.”

Dean stood up, but shook Aaron’s hand off his shoulder. “I can get to my room by myself,” he said, some of his words starting to blend together.

“Fine,” Aaron said, sighing. He watched Dean start to walk away, and turned to Benny. “Would you make sure he gets up there without hurting himself?”

Benny sighed, but he drained the last of his drink and stood to follow Dean.

“I could have gone after him,” Jo said when Aaron took his seat again beside her.

“I figured Benny would have an easier time keeping him from falling over going up the stairs,” Aaron said with a shrug, taking a sip of his own drink.

Jo scowled at him for a moment before facing forward again. “Is there a reason the two of you aren’t getting along lately?” she asked.

Aaron furrowed his brow, confused. “We get along just fine,” he said, looking over at her.

Jo snorted. “Sure, but you’re not always _friendly_ with each other,” she said. It had started the year before, around the time Aaron had run into his soulmate by happenstance after a concert in New York. Dean and Aaron weren’t exactly _distant_ , but they didn’t seem as close as they had been. Or maybe the stress of all this touring nonsense was getting to her.

“A lot’s changed,” Aaron said with a shrug. _You don’t know the half of what’s changed,_ he added silently. Sometimes keeping his relationship with Dean a secret had been a challenge, but in the end they had agreed it had been the better move. “We’re on tour, we work all the time, the four of us are always stuck together,” he said, “it’s a lot to deal with. Everyone will feel better after we’ve had a break from each other.”

Jo mulled that over for a moment before she shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said, sipping her drink. That might also explain the girls Dean kept trying to pick up when he tagged along with Aaron and Jo and Benny when they would go to a bar after a concert or practice or a recording session. Jo thought it was out of character for Dean, but she never questioned him.

Aaron finished his drink and checked the time, standing to go almost as soon as Benny sat back down in his seat at the bar.

“Was it something I said?” Benny asked Aaron.

“What?” Aaron asked, glancing back. “Oh, no. It’s almost midnight. I have a call to make. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” He waved to the others as he left, and he saw them wave back.

On the walk back to his room, Aaron thought about her – his soulmate. It seemed he couldn’t get her out of his head. He’d always heard her, of course, but this was different; now he had a face and a personality to put with the voice. He still remembered the day he’d met her.

~

_This was the first concert of many for that tour. They’d actually had time off – four months before they’d released the CD and started the tour – and they were all refreshed. They hadn’t all gone home; Benny had gone to spend time with his family in Louisiana, to get away from the crowds that always seemed to be around them; Jo spent her free time on a trip to Europe with a few of her friends from high school. Dean and Aaron had gone home to Lawrence._

_Everyone had been glad to see them. Sam, a junior at the time, had complained that his friends kept bothering him for autographs from Dean and Aaron._

_When the tour started, it seemed almost like a relief to be getting back to doing something productive._

_They met at the airport in New York after they all landed, exchanging stories about their time off. They were all giving off excess energy that seemed to make the air hum around them. Even their manager seemed to pick up on it later when they were checking into their hotel._

_The concert went well. They had all gotten more accustomed to performing in front of large crowds, and Dean was even charismatic in dealing with the fans when he was onstage. He would talk to them throughout the concert, joking with the others in the band and sometimes even taking requests from the audience if there was time. (There wasn’t usually extra time. In the end, they had decided to take requests instead of preparing an encore.)_

_The first concert of the tour was in New York City, and it lasted an hour longer than it was supposed to. They had two fans who had backstage passes, and they stayed and talked for another hour._

_By the time Dean and Aaron and Benny and Jo were finally done, it was after midnight. They were dragging their feet the whole way to the car that would take them to the airport._

_“Good show,” Dean said when the car was moving. No one was awake enough to answer him._

_They were flying out of LaGuardia, and it was a twenty minute drive. Everyone was asleep within five minutes._

_“We’re here,” the driver said, loudly, when they arrived. Benny woke first, and shook the others awake._

_After the bags were checked and they made it through security, they found their gate and sat heavily in the seats. Their flight wasn’t due to leave for another couple of hours, but they didn’t care much at the moment; all they really had the energy for was sleep._

_Dean was settling in his seat when he noticed Aaron hadn’t sat down. He glanced around and noticed Aaron instead walking away from them._

_“Where are you going?” Dean asked._

_“I need a snack or something,” Aaron said, glancing back. “I’ll be right back.”_

_Dean nodded. He watched Aaron for a moment before his eyelids were too heavy to hold open and he let himself fall asleep._

_Aaron wandered around the airport’s food court. There was a little coffee place that was open, but staying awake wasn’t his goal. He found a little store that was open and stepped in, drifting down the aisles and surveying the products._

_He wasn’t even sure why he was there; he wasn’t even that hungry. It was like something just told him to wander around the airport, as if he was supposed to be looking for something._

_He was so tired that he almost ran headfirst into a young woman._

_“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, stopping short and backing up a step to keep from colliding with her._

_She glanced up at him and smiled slightly. “It’s quite alright,” she said._

_Aaron had been about to walk around her, but he paused mid-step. He was sure that voice was familiar. He dug into his sleep-muddled mind and listened to the ever-present voice, absolutely sure that it matched the voice this woman had spoken with._

_What was the protocol when you met your soulmate? Aaron wasn’t sure. It wasn’t exactly a subject they covered in school. He could ask her what her favorite song was, but he wasn’t sure that would work. After all, he wasn’t sure he even knew what his own favorite song was._

_He was lingering now, and he was sure she noticed._

_“I’m sorry,” he said, turning to her again. He saw her glance up at him. “It’s just… You, uh, you sounded…familiar,” he said. She turned to face him fully now, a curious and slightly shocked look on her face._

_“I think I know what you mean,” she said, her head tilted up so she could look him in the eye._

_Her name was Rebecca. Her flight had been canceled and rescheduled for the next day, and she had decided to spend the night at the airport since she didn’t know the area. Aaron couldn’t describe it, but it was like the two of them just…clicked. She was easy to have a conversation with, and if he wasn’t so tired that he was in danger of falling asleep standing up, he thought he could talk to her all night._

_When he finally didn’t think he could stay conscious for much longer, he excused himself._

_“I need to get back to my friends,” he said. “And get some sleep before my flight leaves.”_

_“Of course,” she said, smiling._

_They exchanged phone numbers and a promise to call the next day._

_It was only walking back to the gate that Aaron remembered he’d have to tell Dean. He groaned inwardly at the thought._

_When he was down the hall from the gate, Aaron heard someone call his name. He turned to see Dean jogging up behind him._

_“Hey, where you been?” Dean asked. “I woke up and you were still gone.”_

_“You went looking for me?” Aaron asked._

_“Yeah. I thought maybe you’d passed out on the floor of a gift shop or something.”_

_Aaron shook his head. Now was as good a time as any. “Dean, I need to talk to you.”_

_Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Sure, anything,” he said._

_Aaron took a deep breath to steady himself. He glanced around the room, trying not to meet Dean’s gaze directly. “I, uh… I found…her. My soulmate. I found her,” he said. He didn’t know why he was embarrassed; he and Dean had talked about this exact situation._

_“Oh,” Dean said, his face falling marginally. “Okay, um. Good for you,” he added, trying to be upbeat. “I’m happy for you.”_

_Aaron finally looked Dean in the eye. “So…we’re okay? You know we can’t…you know…anymore?”_

_“Yeah,” Dean said, nodding along. “I get it. I’m happy for you.”_

_An awkward silence passed between them. “We should… We should probably get back to the others,” Aaron finally said._

_Dean just nodded. They walked back to the gate in silence. Benny and Jo were still asleep, Jo curled in her seat with her head on Benny’s shoulder. Aaron sat heavily in the seat next to Jo, while Dean took the seat next to Benny. Aaron was asleep in seconds, but Dean was awake for at least another hour._

_The space between Dean and Aaron was tense for the next few days, but they remained friendly. Jo thought, frequently, that they didn’t seem as close as they had been before, though she couldn’t guess why._

~

Dean could hear Aaron coming down the hall. Aaron’s voice drifted through Dean’s door as he unlocked his own hotel room across the hall.

Dean knew Aaron was talking to his soulmate; they talked almost every night. Dean didn’t know if he was jealous that Aaron had found his soulmate, or if he was jealous of Rebecca because she got to be with Aaron.

He wasn’t even sure what he had felt for Aaron. Did he love Aaron? Sure, but he loved Jo and Benny and his parents and Sammy and so many people in his family. Was he _in love_ with Aaron? He didn’t know. What did that even feel like? He figured he’d have to wait until he met his own soulmate to learn that. At least his soulmate could be his own starting point for figuring all that out.

Dean rolled over onto his other side so he didn’t have to face the door. Jo had been right down at the bar; he was close to being drunk if he wasn’t already. It was hard for him to think straight, so he closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

He listened to the voice singing to him in his head. He had learned how to ignore it when he was with Aaron, but for the last year or so, he’d been paying more attention to it, willing the owner of the voice to find him.

The voice sounded different sometimes now. There were times when the voice didn't sound right at all, singing garbled verses for a few days (once even two _weeks_ ) before it seemed to figure out what the song was and sing it correctly. At first it had been annoying, but it was something Dean seemed to just get used to; it didn’t bother him much anymore.

He wasn’t sure how long it took him to get to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

It was late January, so despite the fact that it was only a little after five, the streetlamps had come on an hour before and the sun had already disappeared. There was a thin layer of snow on the ground, and more falling slowly.

Cas was sitting in the library, trying to study. ‘Trying’ was the key word, since Charlie seemed determined to prevent him from getting anything done.

“Come with us,” Charlie said again, her hand on Cas’ arm.

“I have to study,” Cas protested, shrugging her arm away.

“Ten minutes, and I’ll get out of your hair,” Charlie promised. She leaned over so she could look him in the eye. “The concert isn’t on a weeknight, Cas. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Cas sighed. “You aren’t going to let up until I agree to go, are you?” he asked, finally looking up at her from his book.

“No,” Charlie said, grinning. “You didn’t go when they played in New York last year, and you did nothing but mope for a month.”

“No I didn’t,” Cas said quietly, sounding suspiciously like he was trying not to pout.

“Yes, you did. Now come on, they’ll be in Hartford in a month,” Charlie said. “Dorothy and I are already planning to go; you just need to let us know if we need to get a third ticket.”

“I don’t know,” Cas said, shaking his head. “It’s right before midterms, and I have a full course load. Overfull, actually.”

“You know you want to go,” Charlie said, “and it’s just one night. We’ll come right home afterwards and you can get right back to studying. _And,_ the tickets aren’t really expensive, considering.”

Cas tapped his fingers on his textbook. He was sure he could afford the ticket, if he didn’t spend any of his next work-study paycheck. And he _wanted_ to go; he knew that. He didn’t want to admit it, but Charlie was right in that he’d sulked around for a month after he’d missed the concert in New York the year before.

“And,” Charlie said, watching Cas carefully for his reaction, “I know you have that crush on Dean Winchester.”

Cas felt his cheeks heat up, but he stared her in the eye anyway. “I do not,” he said indignantly.

Charlie snorted. “Yeah, okay,” she said, sarcasm coloring her voice. Her phone started ringing in her pocket, earning her annoyed looks from nearby students. She ignored them. “Hey Dorothy,” she said, a smile stretching across her lips.

Cas looked back at his textbook while Charlie talked. She didn’t even bother going outside while she was on the phone. Cas tried to tune her out, but it wasn’t easy with her sitting a foot away. He was almost jealous, though, that she had found her soulmate in high school.

“Did you check under the sink?” she was asking. She paused for a moment, listening, before she said, “Well then I don’t know. I’ll help you look when I get home.”

Cas leaned his forehead into his hand, trying to read the notes he’d scrawled in the margins of his textbook.

“Let me ask,” Charlie said into the receiver before she covered it with her hand. “Cas?”

“Hmm?” Cas asked, glancing up.

“Do you need Dorothy to get a ticket for you too, or not?”

Cas hesitated, his fingers tapping. “Yeah, get me one too,” he finally said.

“Awesome,” Charlie said, grinning. She relayed the information to Dorothy before she hung up a few minutes later.

“So what’s the plan?” Cas asked.

“For the concert?” Charlie thought a moment. “Dorothy and I could pick you up sometime in the afternoon,” she suggested. “The three of us can get dinner before the concert.” She stood and pulled her coat around her. She pulled her cap down over her ears. “We can talk about that when it gets closer. Do you still want help studying tomorrow for that Calculus test?” She slung her messenger bag across her shoulders.

“Uh, yes,” Cas said, confused at the abrupt change of subject. He narrowed his eyes curiously. “You aren’t staying?”

“I can’t write any productive code on these computers,” Charlie said with a shrug. “I’m using my own at home.”

Cas watched her suspiciously. “Were you only here to get me to come with you?” he asked.

“No,” Charlie said, snorting. “Dorothy already bought you a ticket. If you weren’t going to go, we needed to know so we could sell it.”

Cas glanced down for a moment, thinking. “You knew I would say I’d go, didn’t you?” Cas asked, looking back up at her and leaning forward.

Charlie shrugged, a smug smile on her face. “I was pretty sure you would,” she said.

“How?”

“I told you. I know you have a crush on Dean Winchester,” Charlie replied.

Cas looked down at his book, feeling heat creep up his neck again.

“I’ll see you back here tomorrow night,” Charlie said. “Seven o’clock.”

“See you then,” Cas said, watching her as she left. When she rounded the turn toward the exit, Cas went back to reading the notes he’d written in the margins of his book.

There was a group seated behind him, working on a project for one class or another. They were arguing loud enough to be annoying, and with nothing really keeping him in the library at this point, Cas packed up his things and headed for home.

The night was cold and clear, and the snow had stopped falling, leaving a layer of white behind. Cas could have taken his dad’s car to school that day, but he’d felt more like walking; the cold air and the crunch of the snow underfoot cleared his head. The moon was full enough that the light reflecting off the snow would have been enough to see by even without the streetlamps illuminating the path.

He tried not to think about anything as he shoved his hands in his pockets, since if he thought about something there were only three directions for his mind to take: he would think about how much studying he was going to have to do, he would think about what he was going to do for dinner since his dad was in Orlando for a book signing, or he’d think about the concert.

He couldn’t believe Charlie had guessed he’d say yes. Hell, he couldn’t believe she guessed he had a crush on Dean Winchester. Thankfully, though, that was all she’d guessed.

The house was dark when Cas opened the door and stepped inside. But it was warm, and he was grateful for that as he pulled his mittens off and hung his coat and scarf by the door. He went to the kitchen and rummaged for something to eat, finally settling on leftover pasta. He checked his phone and noticed there was an alert for a voicemail. He clicked the button to check it as he waited for his food to heat up.

“Hey, Cas, it’s dad. Right now, it’s Tuesday, about five o’clock. While I have a second I just wanted to let you know that Crowley added another stop, so it’ll likely be another week before I get back.” There was a pause and a lot of background noise, and then, “Give me two more seconds.” It sounded like Chuck was speaking to someone else; his voice was a little muffled, as if he had his hand over the receiver. “Alright, call me sometime tonight,” he said, his voice sounding normal again, if drowned out a little by the noise in the background.

Cas deleted the message. It had been there for two hours, so when Cas sat down at the table with his food, he dialed Chuck’s number. The phone rang a few times before going to voicemail. Cas set the phone on the table beside his plate, turning the volume all the way up so he wouldn’t miss it.

A few minutes later the phone lit up as it rang. “Hello?” Cas answered.

“Hey, sorry about that. I needed to get somewhere where there wasn’t so much noise,” Chuck said.

“No problem,” Cas said. “I got your message.”

“Good,” Chuck said. “I’m sorry about that. I told Crowley to give it a rest, but he insisted on another stop.” Chuck hesitated for a moment before adding, “I can always tell him to shove it if you need me to come home sooner.”

Cas smiled slightly. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be alright for another week.” He knew how much this tour meant to his father. The first book had had just enough of a following that the publisher had picked up the sequel. Then, almost overnight, the two had taken off. The third book had just been released, hence the publicity.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal,” Cas replied. “I spend most of my time at school anyway.”

“Okay,” Chuck said, though he still sounded unsure. “You have enough food and everything?”

“I just went and got more the other day.”

“Okay,” Chuck said again.

There was a pause. “Am I keeping you from something?” Cas asked.

“No,” Chuck said. “The longer this call goes on, the less time I have to spend with Crowley and everyone else at this dinner.”

Cas laughed. “That bad?”

“You’ve met him,” Chuck pointed out.

Cas considered that for a moment. “Yeah, it’s that bad,” he finally decided.

Chuck huffed a laugh on the other end of the line. “So, anything exciting at home?”

Cas shrugged, even though he knew his dad couldn’t see him. “I’m going to a concert with Charlie and Dorothy in a  month,” he said.

“Sounds like fun,” Chuck said.

“Should be,” Cas replied. “And I think I need to get my ears checked again. I made an appointment to go this weekend.” Cas had had to get his hearing checked twice in the four years since the accident – not because there was anything wrong with his aids, but because his hearing continued to deteriorate. The last time he’d gotten a new set of hearing aids, he’d been told it was likely that he only had a few years left before he wouldn’t be able to hear anything at all.

Chuck sighed. “Alright,” he said. “Let me know how it goes.”

“I will,” Cas said.

There was a commotion on Chuck’s end of the line. “I’ll be back in just a minute,” Chuck said, his voice far away, like he was holding the phone away from his face. “I’m talking to my son, calm down.”

“Is that Crowley?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, I have to get back before he gets even less tolerable,” Chuck said as the noise behind him died down.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Cas said.

“It is,” Chuck said. “But he’s good at his job, so I’d better get back.”

“Yeah, okay,” Cas said. “I need to get back to studying.”

“Let me know how the appointment goes this weekend,” Chuck said.

“Sure. See you in two weeks,” Cas said.

“See you,” Chuck said. There was a click when the line went dead.

After Cas finished his dinner and cleaned the dishes, he changed into his pajamas and sat at his desk with his textbook and a spare notebook. He managed to skim through a chapter and a half before he decided to give up on the whole thing, unable to concentrate. Instead, he moved to his bed, turning on the CD player and grabbing his book as he did.

It wasn’t long until he couldn’t read anymore, and instead marked his place and set the book down, letting the sound wash over him. He wondered if any of the songs on this CD would be played at the concert. He doubted it, to an extent, since this was their debut album, and their fourth had just been released.

Dean Winchester. Cas had liked listening to his voice since the debut album had been released. It had sounded familiar, comforting. And he’d only listened to the first song before he was sure Dean’s was the voice singing in his mind, though the songs weren’t the same. He knew he would like the songs even if Dean wasn’t the one singing them, but it was as if his mind couldn’t get enough of listening to that voice, especially since Cas wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hear at all.


	13. Chapter 13

Cas wanted to do some kind of studying before Charlie and Dorothy arrived to pick him up, but he couldn’t make himself concentrate on any of it. He ended up with two different textbooks sitting open on his desk, neither of which he was paying any attention to as he sat on his bed and listened to his CDs.

When he heard the doorbell ring, he got up and left in such a hurry he almost forgot to turn the CD player off.

He found his dad standing in the kitchen with Dorothy and Charlie, having gotten to the door first and invited them in for something to drink. The three of them were talking about Chuck’s books, and Cas debated whether he should go back in his room until they had finished the conversation.

“Hey Cas,” Dorothy said when she spotted him.

Cas had only met her once or twice before, and he was always struck by how different she was from Charlie; where Charlie was bright and friendly, Dorothy was quiet and reserved. He liked her.

“ _Cas,_ ” Charlie exclaimed, turning when Dorothy said his name. “Why didn’t you tell me your dad is the guy who wrote the _Supernatural_ books?”

“I don’t know,” Cas said with a shrug. That was a lie. Charlie had been so excited for the release of the third book that Cas knew he’d never hear the end of it if she knew his dad was the one who was writing the series.

Charlie rolled her eyes and turned back to Chuck. “Are you _sure_ you can’t tell me what happens after he goes to Hell? You can’t just _leave_ him there.”

Chuck’s face said he was amused, but his demeanor said he was uncomfortable to be made a fuss over like this, though he had been to so many promotions at this point that he was good at hiding his discomfort. “You’ll just have to wait for the next one,” he said, not unkindly.

“He won’t tell you anything,” Cas said as he sat on the couch and pulled his sneakers onto his feet. “It’s a clause in his contract or something.”

Charlie gave it a rest after that, but Cas thought the look on her face said that she wasn’t about to let the subject go. He sighed inwardly, knowing that if she didn’t let the subject go, it meant _he_ was going to have to hear about it far more than he wanted to.

“What time do you think you’re going to be home?” Chuck asked.

“Midnight?” Dorothy said, glancing between Charlie and Cas. “I think with traffic afterwards, that’s a good estimate.”

“Sounds like as good a guess as any,” Cas said, shrugging. He pushed himself to his feet and checked his pockets for his phone and wallet. “Ready when you are,” he said.

“You’re _sure_ you can’t tell me anything?” Charlie asked one more time, at the door, just for good measure.

Chuck shook his head. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

“I’ll see you when I get back,” Cas said, grabbing Charlie’s arm and pulling her along.

“Have fun,” Chuck said. He watched from the doorway as they piled into the car. “Be safe,” he added to himself.

“I assume you want to listen to their music on the way?” Dorothy asked, glancing at Cas in the rearview mirror.

“He wants to listen to _Dean_ on the way,” Charlie corrected, turning in her seat so she could look at Cas sitting behind her.

“Only if you want to, Dorothy,” Cas replied, ignoring Charlie, who rolled her eyes and sat in her seat again.

One side of Dorothy’s mouth turned up. “I don’t mind,” she said, starting the CD that was already loaded.

The track started in the middle of a song, but Cas recognized it before it had been on for even a second. “This is one of my favorites,” he said, leaning back in his seat and looking out the window.

“Mine too,” Dorothy agreed.

“It’s alright, I guess,” Charlie said. She grinned and started singing along to the CD, and by the time they arrived at the restaurant for dinner, they were having a concert of their own in the car.

*~*~*~*~*

“Would it really sound _that_ bad?”

“Yeah, it would. Play it the way I wrote it.”

“But what if-”

“The way. I. Wrote. It.”

Dean wasn’t sure how the argument had started; he’d walked in in the middle of Aaron and Benny going back-and-forth – presumably about something Aaron wanted to change about the ending of one song when they played it that night.

“Dean!” Aaron said when he spotted him. “What do you think? At the end-”

“I am not getting in the middle of that,” Dean said, holding his hands up as if to fend him off. He made his way over to his chair, flopping down in it. He watched Aaron and Benny, though he didn’t think their exchange was particularly interesting; he seemed to have a choice between that and listening to the voice in his mind.

It wasn’t that the voice was different in any significant respect today, but it was singing one of their songs. One of the songs _Dean_ sang. He was flattered, sure, but it was strange to hear that song coming from someone else. It was even weirder to think that his soulmate was someone who _listened_ to him; someone who was destined to be in his life made a habit of listening to and learning the songs _he_ sang.

“What’re they arguing about?” Jo asked, effectively cutting off his reverie as she took the seat beside him.

“Who knows,” Dean said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

Jo leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “You ready for tonight?”

“I’m ready for tonight to be _over_ ,” Dean replied. They had a break for a few days before making the trip up to New Hampshire, and Dean was looking forward to sleeping in for once.

“Is anyone coming backstage after the show?”

“I think so. One or two people, maybe? I need to check,” Dean said.

“We’re not going to get out of here until late,” Jo said. Then a thought seemed to occur to her and she furrowed her brow and tilted her head thoughtfully. “Or is it early?”

“Who cares? I just know I’m getting some sleep when we finally get out of here.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Do you have a request?”

Cas turned to look at the girl who’d spoken. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, and she wore a lanyard around her neck that marked her as one of the staff.

“A request?” Cas asked, tilting his head curiously.

The girl nodded, smiling. She held out a sheet of paper to him. “At the end of the show, we’ll randomly draw a request or two.”

Cas looked down at the sheet; it was small, maybe only a quarter of the normal size, with a space for a request and a line for his name.

He felt someone nudge his ribs and he looked up to see Charlie watching him. “You know you want to,” she said mischievously. Cas noticed Dorothy roll her eyes with an affectionate shake of her head.

The girl with the stack of paper was asking other patrons if they had requests, and Cas briefly debated giving the sheet back to her.

“Do you have a pen I could borrow?” Cas asked the girl with the lanyard.

“Wha- Oh, sure,” she said, her attention pulled violently from a group of people she was talking to. There was a collection of pens clipped onto her lanyard, and she quickly freed one and handed it to Cas before going back to her spiel.

Cas contemplated his options, tapping the pen against his leg and staring at the blank sheet.

“Pick something Jo sings,” Charlie suggested.

Cas glanced up at her for a moment. “You _can_ make your own request,” he pointed out.

Charlie rolled her eyes and asked the girl for her own sheet and pen.

“Why don’t you pick something they don’t play often?” Dorothy asked as Charlie scribbled her request.

“I don’t want to pick it just to pick it,” he said, his eyes glued to the paper.

“Then why?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Cas said. He felt like there should be some kind of point to his decision, but he wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

Dorothy offered him a small smile. “Then just pick something you want to hear.”

Cas thought about that for a moment before an idea came to him with a splash of colors. He quickly scratched out his request, using the table behind the girl to lean on. When he was finished writing, he read it over again before he scratched out one word and added a separate one. When he decided it was okay, he carefully wrote his name and how to pronounce it, and dropped the slip of paper in the box with all the other ones.

When he handed the girl her pen, he tried not to think about how full the box looked.

The venue was large and open, and Cas didn’t want to think about how many people it could hold. Already, the place was packed and almost too warm compared to the frigid air outside. Dorothy kept leading them closer and closer to the stage.

“Are you sure the seats are down here?” Cas asked. He’d paid them back for the ticket they’d bought for him, but he was sure tickets for seats this close should be miles out of his price range.

“I’m sure,” Dorothy said, finally stepping down a row that was five from the front.

When they’d settled into their seats, Cas looked around uncertainly. “Are you _sure_ these are our seats?” he asked again.

“I’m sure,” Dorothy repeated.

“How’d you get them?” Cas asked, leaning forward so he could see around Charlie between them.

“She knows a guy,” Charlie said.

“He works with the band,” Dorothy clarified. “As soon as he knew they were coming here, he let me know. And he cut me a deal.”

Cas looked around and shifted in his seat so he could get a better view of the place. There were people “excuse me”-ing down the rows of seats and milling in the aisles, probably not too keen to try to fight their way through just yet. He tried to keep his mind busy so as not to think of how close he was to the stage.

“Are you okay?”

Cas turned to look at Charlie, who had a concerned look on her face.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

Charlie’s brow knit, concerned. “You look a little…freaked out.”

Cas looked between Charlie and Dorothy, who seemed to share that opinion. “I feel fine,” he assured them. “Just, I don’t know, excited, I guess.”

Dorothy didn’t seem to believe him, but she faced forward again anyway, seeming to accept that he wouldn’t say anything else.

“What song did you request?” Charlie asked him, the subject change coming so abruptly that Cas had to think for a moment to process her question.

“What song?” he repeated. He thought for a moment, wondering how best to answer that question. He hadn’t really requested a specific song, per se. “You’ll see, if they pick it,” he finally said.

“What if they don’t?” she challenged.

“Then I’ll tell you in the car on the way home,” Cas said with a shrug.

Charlie opened her mouth to say something else, but she was interrupted by someone tapping the microphone on stage. Cas turned to see who was on stage, expecting one of the staff members to be standing there to tell them it was getting close to show time. His eyes went wide when he was greeted by the sight of none-other than Dean Winchester standing at the microphone, the curtain behind him still down; he’d slipped on stage so quietly and unassumingly that hardly anyone had noticed he was there.

“Hey everyone,” Dean said. There were a few responses from the crowd, and he smiled at them.

“Does he always do this?” Cas whispered, leaning close to Charlie so he wouldn’t disturb anyone around them.

“As far as I know,” Charlie whispered back. “He did last year. I think he just likes talking to everyone.”

The more Dean talked before the show, the more Cas was sure it was Dean’s voice that sang in his head. And he liked just listening to Dean; he liked how Dean would just tell a story if he thought it fit, or how he would involve the audience in what he was saying.

By the time the rest of the band had finally joined Dean on stage and the curtain went up so they could start playing, it seemed like all Cas could do not to stand up and run to him. It wasn’t just the voice, but something in Cas’ gut, a feeling he couldn’t quite describe. He felt like he was _drawn_ to Dean, like something was pulling them together.

*~*~*~*~*

Dean thought he was doing a good job for the most part.

It had nothing to do with playing, of course. By now he knew for a fact that he was pretty good, and he usually felt as if he was at least half-decent. It was something else, and it felt like it was pulling him somewhere off to his left.

The feeling had started when he’d stepped up to the microphone a half hour before the show had started. He had tried to look in that direction for the source of the feeling a few times, but he wanted to make sure he was paying attention to everyone, and so he hadn’t looked as closely as he would have liked.

Despite the constant pull on his left side, Dean managed to get through the songs and continue to interact with the audience and his friends like he usually did at concerts. But even so, he felt his attention being dragged off stage.

The concert went on for just over two hours, and Dean was tired enough that he was stealing glances to his left without noticing how often. He couldn’t seem to single out the cause of the discomfort in his gut, though whether it was because the place was so crowded, or because he was still on stage, he didn’t know.

When the noise finally died down enough for Dean to hear his own thoughts again, he heard Benny ask the audience if they’d enjoyed the show. The question was met with so much noise that Dean saw a kaleidoscope of colors overlaying his vision.

“Then how about one more?” Benny asked when he could be heard again.

Dean thought it must have been impossible for the audience to get tired with how much noise they seemed capable of making.

“Who draws tonight?” Aaron asked, turning from the audience to Dean.

Names were shouted from the audience, but Dean ignored them. He tried to remember who was behind; they didn’t have a set system of who would draw the requested song, but they tried to keep it even.

“How about Jo draws tonight?” Dean asked. An answering cry from the audience said they approved of that decision. Dean smiled at them and turned to the girl waiting in the wings and beckoned her on stage.

Becky made her way over to Jo carrying a box full of the papers she and the other staff had collected before the concert. Jo reached into it and shuffled the papers around for a few seconds before her fist closed around a slip somewhere in the middle. She pulled out the sheet and Becky slipped back offstage. Jo read over the paper quickly and looked up at Dean with an amused look on her face.

“It’s for you,” she said, holding the sheet out to him.

Confused, Dean walked over to her outstretched hand and took the request.                                                                                                                                                                   

        Dean’s  
I’d like to hear ~~your~~ favorite song.  
                -Castiel (pronounced: cass-TEE-el)

 _  
_ “I guess it’s up to you, then,” Jo said, still looking smug.

Dean read over the sheet again, and then one more time. He could feel his heart trying to break out of his chest.

“What does it say?” Aaron asked, sounding somewhere between curious and concerned.

“Everything okay chief?” Benny whispered.

Dean nodded, shaking himself back into the present. “I’m okay,” he said. He read the name again to make sure he would pronounce it correctly. “The request is from someone named _Castiel_.” He looked up and around at the audience. Everyone in the audience was looking around too, looking for Castiel. Dean glanced quickly around the audience, but he didn’t want to hold up the show any longer. “I hope I’m pronouncing that correctly,” he said sheepishly, carefully folding the sheet and tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans.

“What’s the song?” Jo asked.

“ _Ramble On._ Led Zeppelin,” Dean said.

Jo rolled her eyes theatrically. “As if we don’t hear that enough from you,” she joked.

The audience laughed, and Dean smiled with them.

“One more time won’t hurt you,” Dean shot back. He knew he played it too much, but he couldn’t help that he loved it.

“Then why don’t you play it solo,” Jo said. “Spare the rest of us.”

Dean glanced back at the audience with a questioning look, and the noise was deafening. He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay,” he said when it possible to be heard over the noise, “I’ll play it solo.”

He walked back downstage and retook his spot. He waited until the audience gave him near-total silence to begin playing.

*~*~*~*~*

When Dean said his name, Castiel felt his heart dive into his feet.

“ _Cas_ ,” Charlie whispered excitedly, gripping his arm.

He almost didn’t notice, almost forgot she was even there.

When Dean mentioned what song he was going to play, Cas could feel the dumbfounded stares Dorothy and Charlie had aimed at him.

“Why wouldn’t you pick one of theirs?” Dorothy whispered, leaning over Charlie so she wouldn’t disturb anyone else with her question.

“I didn’t pick it,” Cas said, his eyes glued to Dean on stage. He half expected to have misheard him. “I asked for his favorite song.”

Dorothy and Charlie shared a confused look. “Why would you-” Charlie started to ask Dorothy, but she cut herself off as they arrived at their conclusion at the same time.

“Holy shit,” Dorothy said quietly. She leaned around Charlie again to get a better look at Cas.

Charlie turned in her seat and grabbed Cas’ arm. “Cas, do you-”

Cas _shush_ ed her, leaning forward in his seat as Dean played the first few notes of the song. He almost expected to wake up and have this all be a dream – the result of too many late nights studying for exams, a hopeless crush, and a vivid imagination. But he knew it was real. He could _feel it_ in his bones, and if Charlie’s iron grip couldn’t wake him up, nothing could.


	14. Chapter 14

As the last notes of the song trailed off and the applause grew in a steady crescendo, Cas found himself sitting on the edge of his seat. He was watching Dean intently. Dean had been looking in Cas’ direction all night, and Cas thought he was going to lose it if Dean’s gaze slid by him again.

Charlie was trying to tell him something, but Cas wasn’t paying any attention. The audience was still cheering and shouting, and Dean was smiling at them and waving, not bothering to try to say anything over the noise. He was turning to acknowledge as many people as he could, and when his attention swept over the section where Cas was sitting, Cas straightened and leaned forward. Something about the lack of motion around Cas’ seat must have drawn Dean’s attention, because in the next moment, Cas was staring into bright green eyes.

Something in the air between them changed, as if a string had been pulled taut. Dean’s buoyant stage persona faltered as confusion started to creep across his features.

Charlie’s hand on his arm was the only thing keeping Cas from leaving his seat. Cas held his free hand in front of his chin and swept the hand downward. _Thank you_.

Dean blinked at him, curious, but the spell was broken when Aaron threw his arm around Dean, saying something to the crowd. Cas’ posture fell slightly when Dean regained his composure and turned back to the audience at large. Cas didn’t hear much of what everyone said as they closed the show, but he took some comfort in the fact that Dean continued to steal glances at him.

When the band had disappeared behind the curtain, the house lights went up, and Cas found himself staring at an empty stage. He felt a tap against his arm and he blinked, looking up to see Charlie holding something in front of him.

“We thought it’d be a good early birthday present,” she said, holding the laminated card out to him.

“When we thought you just had a crush on him,” Dorothy added. “It seems like a much better present now.”

Cas took the card from Charlie, staring at the glossy surface for a moment before the words made any sense to him. _Backstage Pass_. He ran his fingers over the words as if he were afraid they’d fly off the page. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Come on,” Charlie said. She and Dorothy had already stood, their own passes hanging on lanyards around their necks. She offered her hand.

Cas waved the hand away and stood, the pass hanging from its lanyard. He followed dumbly as they made their way to the end of the row and started down the aisle toward a door marked “STAFF ONLY”. A large man stood in front of the door, waiting for them. When they stopped in front of the guard, he asked for their passes, and was quick to check them before heading through the door and gesturing for them to follow him.

*~*~*~*~*

When Dean locked eyes with the stranger in the crowd, he was reminded of a fly caught in a web; he felt like he was trapped and unable to move. He was sure the stranger was the source of the tug in his core, but he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. More specifically, he was afraid of what it meant.

Dean was intrigued by the sign for _thank you_. He didn’t know much ASL, but he had picked that one up somewhere. He studied the stranger, his curiosity piqued.

He started when he felt Aaron’s arm unexpectedly thrown across his shoulders. Dean tore his gaze from the stranger, pulling himself together as Aaron spoke. It was supposed to be Dean’s line, but apparently he’d been taking too long. Still, as they said their good-byes to the crowd, Dean found himself easily picking the stranger out of the audience.

As they walked backstage and the curtain closed behind them, Dean tried to shake the experience from his mind. He still felt a tug toward the audience, but he shoved it to the back of his mind, refusing to acknowledge it.

“You feel okay?” Aaron asked, pulling his arm back.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Dean replied, removing his guitar from his shoulder. He found the case just off stage and carefully set the instrument down. The muffled noise from the crowd was dying down as the audience filed out.

“Are you sure?” Jo asked, standing just behind him. “You looked…I don’t know. Startled maybe?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Dean said, closing the case and standing. “We have people coming back, right?” he asked, trying to get the subject off him.

Jo nodded. “There are three of them. I checked.”

Dean sighed, standing up a little taller. “Okay,” he said.

Jo’s eyes narrowed. “You sure you feel alright?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m fine,” he repeated. “I just need to get some sleep.”

The door at the other end of the stage creaked open, accompanied by voices. The din from the audience was significantly quieter, and the voice of the guard could be heard clearly as he spoke to the visitors.

The tug was back in Dean’s gut. It was stronger now, and more insistent.

Benny was the first to greet the visitors, and Aaron and Jo were quick to make their way over and introduce themselves. Dean took a steadying breath and made his way to join them.

The first one he noticed was a girl with bright red hair. Everything about her was lively, and her face lit up as she spoke to everyone. Behind her was a taller girl with dark hair who had a protective look about her.

Dean stopped just shy of joining the group when his mind registered the third visitor. This close, he could tell that the stranger had bright blue eyes, and those eyes seemed to stare right through him.

“You okay Dean?” Aaron asked. His voice was light, but his brows were slightly drawn in concern. He stepped back and put a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dean said, shaking his head to clear it as he stepped forward. “I’m Dean,” he said, glancing at their visitors. He smiled warmly at them. “But I guess you already knew that.”

The redhead nodded eagerly. “I’m Charlie. This is Dorothy, and Castiel,” she said, gesturing to herself and then to her companions.

“Castiel?” Benny asked. “Castiel who made the request?”

The stranger with the terrifyingly blue eyes nodded, his gaze finally leaving Dean and settling on Benny. “Yes, that was me,” he said.

Dean had never heard anything a richer shade of blue, and the voice, deeper than he had expected, sent a shiver of recognition down his spine.

“It was an interesting request,” Benny said, an eyebrow cocked curiously.

“Why’d you ask for his favorite song?” Jo asked, watching Castiel inquiringly.

Castiel shrugged. “I just wanted to hear something different, I suppose,” he replied easily. It sounded rehearsed.

Charlie was almost bouncing in her spot. It seemed like the only reason she was able to keep still was Dorothy’s hand in hers.

“Everything okay?” Aaron asked her, eyeing her uncertainly.

Charlie nodded, a little too quickly. “Just excited,” she said.

“That’s understandable,” Jo said. “You _are_ back here with me.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Castiel said, his lips twitching into a small smile.

“You see?” Jo said, thumping Dean on the arm playfully. “They get it.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Then seemed to think better of it and nodded. “You are pretty great,” he said.

“I am,” Jo agreed. She turned back to their visitors and asked, “Do you want to have a look around? I can show you backstage.”

Charlie looked like she was about to explode, but Dorothy managed to answer calmly. “That’d be awesome.”

“I think I’d like to ask Dean something, if that’s okay,” Castiel said quietly, almost shyly.

Dean blinked, confused. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, flustered. “I just need to grab my phone, call my brother.” He shifted his weight, a little uncertain. He turned to Jo and the others. “We can meet you back there. Castiel and I will go to the dressing rooms first and circle back?”

Jo, Benny, and Aaron glanced at each other. Dean wasn’t usually this anxious when they had fans backstage. “Are you sure?” Aaron asked, everything in his expression and his posture saying he didn’t have to be.

“Yeah. I need to call Sam anyway,” Dean said, brushing off their concern.

“We can meet you back at your room, so we don’t have to worry about finding each other,” Aaron suggested. He didn’t like the thought of Dean going off by himself with this guy they hadn’t known for ten minutes, even with all the security they had around.

“Sure,” Dean said, nodding.

“Alright,” Jo said, rubbing her hands together, “now that that’s settled, we’ll start this way.” She headed toward where the stage manager’s equipment was being packed away, the others trailing behind her as she started talking.

“This way,” Dean said, jerking his head in the other direction.

*~*~*~*~*

Cas was shaking.

At least he thought he was. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets as he followed Dean through a series of doors, finally arriving at one with “DEAN WINCHESTER” written on the door.

Dean pushed the door open and entered, digging through a duffel bag that was thrown on a chair in the corner.

Cas hesitated at the door, shifting his weight from foot to foot uncertainly.

Dean had his phone in his hand. He glanced up from dialing the number. “Come in,” he said, holding the phone up to his ear. “Make yourself at home.”

The room wasn’t very big, but it was cozy. There was the chair in the corner, and a loveseat set against the wall. Cas took a seat at one end of the loveseat, and noticed a book face-down on the end table. Curious, he turned it over, and groaned almost audibly when he noticed it was his father’s newest book.

“Tell your friend to forget it,” Dean was saying. “I’m not signing it.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at him, but Dean just shook his head.

“If you’re using the fact that your brother is the greatest musician to ever grace the stage to get friends, you may need a new strategy,” Dean said into the receiver, sitting heavily at the other end of the loveseat.

Cas found himself watching Dean. He liked how Dean smiled when he was talking to his brother; it was different from the smile he wore on stage – it lit his entire face up, making the skin around his eyes crinkle.

After a minute or so, Cas forced himself to look away from Dean’s face. He inspected the sparsely decorated room instead, but he found himself staring at nothing and instead listening to Dean as he spoke.

“Yeah, I do,” Dean was saying, “but I thought I’d check in and make sure everything was okay.” There was a pause, then, “I mean it when I say I won’t sign anything. I’ll talk to you later.”

Cas looked back over at Dean, who had closed his phone and shoved it into his pocket. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Sam’s at Stanford. I like to check on him.”

“It’s no trouble,” Cas said. “Your brother likes to advertise that he’s your brother?”

Dean shrugged. “People tend to recognize the last name and ask,” he said. “He just doesn’t see the point in lying to them.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Only when they keep asking for autographs,” Dean said, one side of his mouth turning up in a smile.

Cas huffed a laugh and looked away, suddenly very aware of how close he was to Dean Winchester.

“So. Castiel-”

“Please, call me Cas,” Cas interrupted, looking up at Dean again. “Less formal.”

“Cas. That’s a lot easier to say,” Dean said. “Why Castiel? It’s a little strange.”

Cas shrugged, trying to ignore the not-unpleasant feeling that had started in his gut when Dean said his name. “He’s the Angel of Thursday and I was born on a Thursday,” he said. “I guess my parents just liked the name.”

“It’s a good name,” Dean said.  A moment passed in semi-awkward silence, but neither of them seemed able to look anywhere but at each other. “You said you wanted to ask me something,” Dean finally said.

“I did,” Cas said, suddenly feeling fidgety again; he wasn’t sure how to say what he wanted to say. “It was about my request,” he said carefully.

“I was wondering about that,” Dean said, shifting in his seat so he could face Cas more fully. There was a pause, and Dean seemed inclined to fill it. “You couldn’t ask this question around everyone else?”

Cas wrung his hands uncertainly. He wanted to mention the connection he felt to Dean, how he felt drawn to him. He wanted to talk about how dumbstruck he had felt when Dean had sung _Ramble On_. Those weren’t things he wanted to say in front of a crowd, but now he had no idea how to bring them up.

“Why did you thank me, after the song?” Dean asked when the silence had dragged on a little too long.

“You know ASL?” Cas asked, startled, his hands flying through the question.

Dean shook his head. “Just a few signs that I picked up somewhere,” he said. His eyes tracked Cas’ hands, but he clearly had no idea what the signs meant.

“Oh,” Cas said, his face falling marginally. “I could teach you,” he offered, and immediately chastised himself for the statement. He still wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to see Dean again.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah?” he asked. “What can you teach me in the next few minutes before the others get here?”

Cas thought a moment, an idea coming to him. “I can teach you to introduce yourself,” he said.

He showed Dean the motions, and how to spell his name. He made sure the movements were precise, and forced himself to resist the urge to reach out and reposition Dean’s hand for him.

“What about ordering a beer?” Dean asked, grinning.

Cas rolled his eyes, but went through the signs carefully. He tried not to think too much about Dean’s hands while they practiced.

“This is one I like,” Cas said, his hands moving easily across the words.

Dean’s brow furrowed. “What’s it mean?”

“’I can hear you,’” Cas said, swallowing nervously as he felt his cheeks heat up. He watched as confusion and then realization crossed Dean’s features.

“You mean you… _hear_ me,” Dean said, tapping a finger against his temple. When Cas nodded, he leaned back against the armrest of the loveseat. “ _That’s_ why you asked to hear my favorite song.”

Cas nodded again. “I didn’t think you’d actually pick mine,” he admitted. “I just thought it would be nice to try.” He realized Dean hadn’t said anything about hearing _him_ , and he shifted uncertainly. “What about you?”

“You do sound familiar.” Dean said it like he was choosing his words carefully. “And I thought, during the concert, that there was something…pulling at me?” he said, making a face like he didn’t like his own phrasing. “And then you were there,” he continued. “It was like I recognized you.”

Cas felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I…know what you mean,” he said, annoyed at how lame and jaded the words sounded. The pull seemed to have faded now, with the two of them seated next to each other on the couch.

Charlie liked to tell the story about how she and Dorothy met. She was always dramatic in her telling, saying it had been like coming home. Dorothy would roll her eyes and say it had been more like finally remembering the piece of information that had been nagging her all day.

Neither of those scenarios fit what Cas felt now. He was giddy, and he was relieved, and he was star-struck. He was sitting with _Dean Winchester_ , who was his soulmate. He felt like he _knew_ Dean, but Dean also felt like a stranger to him. The whole situation was overwhelming, and the best word for how he felt was _awkward_.

“What do we do now?” Cas asked quietly, uncertainly.

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know,” he replied. He was sitting so he was facing Cas, and Cas found himself unable to look anywhere else. “I’ll be in Connecticut for the next few days before we head out, if you wanted to, I don’t know, get lunch or something.”

Cas’ head was swimming, and he found himself nodding. “Yes, I-” he started, but cut himself off, a pang of disappointment shooting through his chest. His face fell. “I can’t,” he said. “I have midterms this week. I don’t have enough time to get back up here.”

Dean looked away for a moment, thoughtful. He dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone, punching a few buttons before he held it out to Cas.

Cas quickly entered his name and number. He double and triple checked it to make sure it was correct before handing the phone back and quickly pulling his own phone from his pocket. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself while Dean was inputting his number, so he settled for staring down at his hands.

“That’s a private number,” Dean said, handing the phone back. He had a joking smile on his face. “Don’t go giving it away.”

“Never,” Cas said, a small smile creeping across his face as he put his phone away again.

There was a knock on the doorframe, and Dean and Cas both turned toward the sound.

“Did you get everything sorted?” Aaron asked.

“I think so,” Dean said, glancing over at Cas.

Cas tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.

“Is that what I think it is?” Charlie asked, leaning around Aaron to look into the room. She practically bounced over to the end table and inclined her head to get a better look at the title along the spine of the book that was resting face-down on the table. “You read _Supernatural_?”

Dean shrugged. “I have a friend back home who reads it,” he replied. “I just read it so I can keep up with what she’s talking about.”

Cas felt a wave of relief; at least he wouldn’t have to deal with Dean hounding him for information on the series. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle that from two people. Even so, he didn’t feel like telling Dean just yet that his father was the one who was writing _Supernatural_.

“The others are waiting for us back on stage,” Aaron said, jerking his head to his right. “We should get back.”

*~*~*~*~*

By the time they were in the car again half an hour later, Cas was exhausted. He leaned against the window, his eyelids drooping even as Charlie peppered him with questions about the time he’d spent with Dean.

“We didn’t do much,” he said. “Just talked a little.”

“That’s it?” Charlie asked. She was turned almost all the way around so she could see him in his seat behind her.

Cas shrugged. “What else would we do?” he asked, then he shook his head. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.” He tried and failed to stifle a yawn.

“Leave him alone Charlie,” Dorothy said, resting her hand on her soulmate’s knee. “I’m sure he’ll give you all the details later.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, turning to face forward again. She turned the conversation on Dorothy, and Cas heard snippets of conversation on the various technical aspects of the show they’d seen backstage.

Just as Cas was drifting to sleep, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He dug it out tiredly. The text on the screen read, _New Message: Dean_. The sight set Cas’ heart to racing.

**_Let me know when you get home._ **

Cas smiled to himself, thankful that no one was looking at him.

*~*~*~*~*

When Dean finally made it to his hotel room, he threw himself unceremoniously onto the bed, not even bothering to change out of his jeans and t-shirt.

His phone chimed, and he groaned as he fished it out of his pocket. _New Message: Castiel._ Dean thought it was weird that Cas had entered his full name instead of his nickname, but for now he decided to leave it as it was.

**_I’m home. It was nice to meet you._ **

Dean smiled and shook his head. He replied quickly and tossed his phone onto the nightstand. He rolled over and curled up on the bed, his thoughts wandering to the voice that was constantly singing in the back of his mind.

Cas’ voice.

Dean sighed contentedly, Cas’ voice singing him to sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note on formatting:  
>  ** _Bold italics_** are text messages  
>  _Italics_ are sign language
> 
> Also a note that sign language doesn't have the same grammar rules as spoken/written English, but since I'm nowhere near fluent in sign language, the signed conversations are written as what was meant and are not literal transcriptions of what would have been signed.

Cas woke up around mid-morning to find a text from Charlie waiting on his phone. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up, trying to process his memories from the night before.

He’d gone to a concert with Dorothy and Charlie. They’d gotten him a backstage pass as an early birthday present. The next part was what Cas wasn’t sure was real; he was sure he’d met the band, and he was sure that he’d spoken to Dean Winchester, but he had to have dreamed that Dean was his soulmate – it was just too good to be true. There was just the bit where Dean had sung the same song as his soulmate, and that was a little harder to explain away. Unless it had all been a fantastic dream and the concert hadn’t happened yet.

Yawning, Cas stood and stretched. He grabbed his phone and checked Charlie’s message as he made his way to the kitchen in search of breakfast.

**_Still studying later? I understand if you made other plans last night._ **

Cas furrowed his brow. **_Yes to studying. Other plans?_**

The kitchen didn’t have much in the way of food at the moment, but he found a box of cereal that was full enough to constitute a meal, and there was just enough milk left to be usable.

The phone went off as Cas sat down to eat.

**_Plans with Dean?_ **

With Dean. Well, at least Cas knew he hadn’t dreamed that part. He didn’t know if he was relieved or terrified to learn that.

**_No plans. Need to study._ **

He ate the rest of his breakfast in peace, contemplating whether or not he should talk to Dean. He felt like he should, but he didn’t want to be a bother, and he didn’t know what Dean would be up to. Besides, he still had exams to study for.

‘I’ll talk to him tonight,’ Cas decided. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through him.

Cas jumped when a shadow fell across the table in front of him, and he looked up to see Chuck setting his breakfast down.

 _Good morning,_ Chuck signed.

Cas realized his father had probably already tried to start a conversation with him, but Cas hadn’t bothered with his hearing aids when he’d gotten up. _Good morning_ , he signed.

_How was the concert last night?_

They hadn’t spoken much when Cas had gotten home; he had slept almost the whole way back, and he had only been awake enough to get into the house, give a ten-word-or-less description of the night, change, and get to bed. _It was a lot of fun_ , Cas replied. _We sat close to the stage, and Dorothy and Charlie got Backstage passes so we could meet the band, and-_

Chuck covered Cas’ hands with his own, stilling them. _Slower please_ , he requested.

Cas nodded. He had started signing faster as he got excited, and Chuck was out of practice. He repeated himself, pausing after mentioning the passes to make sure his dad was following him.

 _What were they like?_ Chuck asked.

 _Really friendly,_ Cas replied. _They took us on a tour of the place. We got to see how everything worked._

 _Is that all?_ Chuck asked. He was smiling at the excited expression on Cas’ face.

Cas glanced away for a moment, feeling heat creep up his neck. _I found my soulmate._

“Oh,” Chuck said, caught so off guard that he forgot to use his hands. Cas was so steady that he hadn’t expected that kind of news, especially since Cas had been half asleep when he’d gotten home the night before; that certainly wasn’t the reaction Chuck had had when he’d found his soulmate. _What’s his name?_ Chuck asked when Cas looked back at him.

 _Dean Winchester,_ Cas said, his giddiness from the night before returning as he spelled the name.

 _The singer?_ Chuck asked, his brow furrowed.

Cas nodded excitedly. _I spoke to him a little yesterday, and taught him a few signs._

Chuck smiled at Cas. He hadn’t seen his son this excited about anything for a long time, and he didn’t have the heart to ask Cas to slow down again when he couldn’t follow along. Cas had gotten so much better at signing since he’d continued ASL at college (and had found several friends who used it extensively in their everyday lives) that they often didn’t use it at home anymore, except for simple conversations.  

Cas paused when his phone lit up in front of him. “Dean!” he said, too loudly.

An amused smile tugged at Chuck’s lips as Cas completely ignored him to answer whatever text he had just gotten.

*~*~*~*~*

Dean met the others for breakfast far earlier than he would have liked. Truth be told, he would have stayed in bed all day if he had been allowed to, but they had decided to go out to breakfast as a group before they split off and did their own things for the day.

He didn’t say much while they found a diner in town; he was too busy turning over the events of the night before. Meeting Cas had been like meeting a ghost: nerve-wracking, exciting, and a little terrifying. Dean was glad they had finally met, but it came as a bit of a shock, since he had accepted the astronomical odds in place related to their meeting at all.

“Dean,” Jo said, tapping the menu Dean was staring at but not reading.

Dean glanced up, surprised to see Jo looking a little annoyed at him. “Did you say something?” he asked.

Jo looked like she wanted to make a sarcastic remark, but all she said was, “I asked what you and Castiel talked about last night.”

Dean could feel everyone else’s eyes on him. Of course that was what they wanted to know. ‘It’s way too early for this,’ Dean thought. “We didn’t talk about much,” he said, realizing only as the words came out of his mouth that maybe they didn’t sound right like that. He forced down the heat that was creeping up his neck. “I called Sam first, and then Castiel showed me a couple of signs.”

“Signs?” Aaron asked.

“What’d he teach you?” Benny asked.

“How to introduce myself,” Dean said with a shrug. “How to order a beer.”

“He didn’t seem like the type to go drinking,” Benny commented.

Dean shook his head. “I asked him to show me that one.”

“What was it he wanted to ask you?” Jo asked, clearly not impressed with the information she was given.

Dean tried not to fidget. “He mentioned the song I sang, as the request,” he said. He hoped someone would interrupt him, but no such luck; they were all waiting for his explanation. “He pretty much asked so he could hear it out loud for once.”

It had taken a few years, but it seemed to Dean that he had finally rendered the group entirely speechless.

“You mean…? Do you hear him too?” Aaron asked. He didn’t seem like he had many words to choose from at the moment.

Dean nodded, smiling at the waitress when she showed up at their table. She very obviously knew who they were, and Dean tried to put her at ease, though he wasn’t sure how successful he was. Still, she managed to keep her voice steady when she repeated back their orders.

“He’s your soulmate?” Jo asked, exasperated, when the waitress left with their orders.

“Unless I missed something, yeah,” Dean replied. He wanted to change the subject, but he didn’t think anyone would let him. He took a sip of his drink instead.

“Why are you still here?” Benny asked. “You only have a few days left here.”

“I know,” Dean said. “I’ll talk to him later.”

“You didn’t make plans?” Jo asked.

“I really just wanted to get to sleep last night,” Dean snapped. He knew he shouldn’t be speaking so harshly, but he really didn’t want to talk about it, and he hadn’t eaten since before the concert the night before; talking about his soulmate was not high on his priority list at the moment.

Conversation was almost nonexistent until the waitress returned a few minutes later with their food. Even the first few minutes of the meal were tense, until Aaron finally broke the silence and asked what everyone had planned for their day off. Thankfully, talk stayed away from Dean.

They arrived back at the hotel an hour or so later, and Dean had every intention of going back up to his room and trying to get some sleep before he attempted to talk to Cas again. Unfortunately, Aaron had other plans, and stopped him in the hall on the way to their rooms.

“Something wrong?” Aaron asked.

“I’m fine,” Dean said, trying to muscle his way past.

Aaron put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, effectively stopping him. “We were together for a long time Dean,” he said quietly. “Don’t try to lie to me.”

Dean was absolutely sure he didn’t want to be reminded of that right now. There was a knot in his stomach every time he thought about the fact that he had, in fact, met his soulmate, and that he had been with Aaron in the meantime. He wasn’t even sure why it made him uncomfortable, but he knew it wasn’t something he was looking forward to talking about with Cas.

“I need to think,” he said, not turning around.

“Okay,” Aaron said uncertainly. He pulled his hand back slowly, watching Dean carefully.

“I’ll see you later,” Dean said. He didn’t look back as he unlocked his door and slipped into his room.

Dean always left the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door, so housekeeping hadn’t come. He liked when he came back to a messy room; it was like when he was at home.

His phone chimed in his pocket, and when he checked it he found a text from Aaron.

**_I’m going downtown. You can come if you need something to do._ **

Dean thought for a minute as he stared at the screen. He knew he shouldn’t be sitting around all day, but he didn’t really want to be around Aaron or Benny or Jo. He saw them so much on tour that days off from them were needed, no matter how much he loved them.

**_No thanks_ **

Dean almost tossed the phone onto the nightstand, but he started looking through his messages instead. He stared at the name ‘Castiel’ until the screen shut off, thinking that he really should talk to Cas. Hell, he didn’t even know where the guy lived. Or his last name. And that seemed like important information. Plus, there were some things he needed to say before he gave himself an ulcer worrying about the conversation he needed to have.

With a steadying breath, Dean selected the conversation with Cas from the previous night. **_Hey Cas_** , he typed. He tapped his index finger against the back of the phone. How was one supposed to do this? **_You close enough to Hartford for lunch?_** He set the phone down after he pressed ‘send,’ trying to ignore the unknown feeling building in his gut.

It was only a minute later that the phone went off again.

 ** _I’m in New Haven_** , Cas’ text read. **_About an hour away._**

So, was that a yes or a no? Dean wondered. It certainly wasn’t a refusal, and he didn’t mind a bit of a drive; it might help clear his head. **_Is that a yes?_**

Sure, he was being hopeful, maybe a little too much, but he had decided he wanted to get away from the hotel and everyone in it, at least for an afternoon.

 ** _I don’t have a car_** , Cas replied.

That still didn’t sound like a no, and Dean got the feeling that Cas didn’t really want to say no. Maybe he was worried about saying yes.

 ** _I can get a car_** , Dean typed. **_We can meet somewhere._**

After about a minute with no reply, Dean started to get worried. Cas had been replying so quickly, and now there was a delay. When the phone went off again, he was worried there was some kind of refusal, but instead he found the name of a restaurant in New Haven, and an address.


	16. Chapter 16

Dean parked in the lot down the street after driving past the address about five times to make sure he was in the right place; the last thing he wanted to do was fuck this up even more than he was already probably going to fuck it up.

It was a small diner, cozy and warm out of the chill air outside. A quick look around from the entrance showed him that Cas either wasn’t there yet, or was seated further in the back than he could see.

“Good afternoon sir. Just you?” the hostess asked. She was an older woman, and Dean was thankful that she didn’t seem to recognize him; the same could not be said for some of the customers seated at the tables and booths, who were either stealing glances in his direction, or openly staring at him.

Dean shook his head. “Two,” he replied. “Is there anyone here who’s waiting? I'm meeting someone.”

The hostess looked down and checked something on her podium, but shook her head. “No one waiting,” she said, picking up two menus. “Booth or table?”

“Booth. And someone else will meet me here in a few minutes.”

She made a note and gestured for Dean to follow her.

Dean decided that if she didn’t know who he was, she at least noticed how everyone was reacting to his arrival; she led him to the back of the restaurant, where they had only just started seating people. There was a bit of space between the booth she led him to and the next booths or tables that were occupied.

The hostess set the menus down on the table as Dean slid into his seat. “Your server will be with you shortly,” she said.

“Thank you,” Dean said. He checked the time – exactly twelve. At least he wasn’t late.

He tried to busy himself with looking over the menu, but he couldn’t seem to concentrate. In the end, he settled for watching the foot traffic out the window.

The sound of someone sliding in across from him snapped Dean out of his reverie.

“Hello Dean,” Cas said. He had a small smile on his face, and Dean felt like there was an army of butterflies attacking his insides.

“Hey Cas,” he said, returning the smile. He was acutely aware of the people sitting around them; they were likely people Cas knew, or at least interacted with regularly, and they kept stealing glances at them.

“Thank you for coming down here,” Cas said.

“No problem,” Dean replied, shifting uncomfortably.

He was saved from having to make small talk when the server arrived, greeting them warmly and asking for their drink orders. Having to concentrate on something else, however briefly, helped Dean ignore the growing pit in his stomach.

Dean tried to concentrate on the menu when the server left to get their drinks, but he felt like his brain was overloading. Cas wasn’t being anything less than cordial, but he still felt a shred of uncertainty in his chest.

“The burgers are good here,” Cas suggested after a moment.

“Hmm?” Dean asked, glancing up from the page.

“The burgers,” Cas repeated, leaning forward so he could point to the picture in the menu. “They’re great here. I used to come with friends all the time, and that’s what we would get.”

“Guess I have to try one then,” Dean said, closing the menu and setting it on the edge of the table.

When the waiter had taken their orders and their menus, they sat in silence for a minute, unsure of what to say. At least with Aaron, Dean had felt like he was just continuing what he’d always done. What was he supposed to say around someone he’d met less than twenty four hours before?

“You from around here?” Dean asked, figuring it was the best place to start.

Cas nodded. “I’ve been here my whole life,” he said. “What about you?”

“Kansas,” Dean said. “A place called Lawrence.”

“Is Connecticut that different?” Cas asked.

Dean shrugged. “A place is a place,” he said. “They aren’t that different. I’ll tell you what’s different, is New York City.”

“I can imagine,” Cas said, smiling. “I almost went to the concert you did there last year."

"No kidding?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded. "But I guess you’ve seen a lot of places.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Dean said. His mind was racing to get the conversation off of him; he was trying _not_ to think about touring for an afternoon.

“Which place is your favorite?” Cas asked, leaning forward unconsciously.

Dean thought for a moment. He wasn’t always in a place long enough to form an accurate opinion of it. A slight smile fought its way onto his face when he figured out his answer. “I think Hartford was a pretty cool place,” he said. It probably would have sounded better if it hadn’t come out so shyly. ‘Smooth, Winchester,’ he thought.

Cas tilted his head for a moment before he glanced away, color rising in his cheeks. “That doesn’t make it your favorite,” he replied.

“Maybe not,” Dean said carefully. “Don’t give me that look,” he added when Cas turned a slightly hurt look on him. “I really don’t know you.”

Cas considered that for a moment. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything,” Dean said. “Everything.”

*~*~*~*~*

“You figured that out when you were _six_?” Dean asked.

Cas nodded, picking at the last few fries on his plate. “I was curious,” he said, “and no one could give me an answer.”

“It’s not exactly a common condition,” Dean said, reaching over to take a French fry from Cas’ plate (Cas didn’t mind). “It took a while for someone to even diagnose it.”

Cas shrugged. “It was pretty specific,” he agreed, “but the library around here is pretty well stocked. And I’ve never found anything that said it was something else.”

Dean nodded. He could feel his heart start to speed up. “Speaking of soulmate’s voices,” he started, “yours shut up a few years ago. Just for a few minutes, but I always wondered what happened; it freaked me out.”

“I was in a car accident,” Cas said. He glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention. “They told me my heart stopped for three minutes,” he continued in a lowered voice. “The accident’s also why I’m losing my hearing.”

“Oh,” Dean said, unsure of how to respond to that. “I’m sorry.”

Cas shook his head. “Don’t be,” he said. “It’s normal at this point. But I’m sorry it upset you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said dismissively. He tapped his fingers on the table in front of him, and he could feel Cas’ eyes on him.

“Something’s bothering you,” Cas guessed. He might not have known Dean for very long, but body language had become easier for him to read as he learned how to communicate without his ears.

Dean looked down at the table, his face unreadable. “Yeah, I uh… When your voice stopped singing, it…really fucked me up,” he said.

“Understandable,” Cas said, leaning forward to try to get Dean to look at him.

“I was…” Dean hesitated. “I was worried we’d never meet.”

Cas squinted, trying to figure out what Dean was trying to get at. “What are you saying?” he asked. He tried not to sound suspicious.

“A friend and I were…involved, with each other,” Dean said, his cheeks darkening.

“Involved?” Cas repeated, his voice small. An unpleasant feeling started bubbling in his gut.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said immediately.

“Don’t be,” Cas said firmly. The ugly feeling had settled in beside his heart, but he refused to hold it against Dean, at least until they had a chance to sort it out.

“You’re not mad then?” Dean asked cautiously.

“I don’t know,” Cas replied. He could tell he sounded annoyed, but he couldn’t seem to help it.

“I’m sorry,” Dean repeated. It seemed off that he had to apologize for doing what had made him feel better at the time, but he hated that it had upset Cas.

“Just…give me time to think about it, okay?” Cas asked.

“Sure, Cas, anything,” Dean said, worried that he’d managed to fuck this up before it had a chance to go anywhere.

Cas nodded and took a deep breath, trying to get his head back in the right place. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Like what?” Dean asked, worried.

Cas frowned. “I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “Are you secretly an FBI agent and the rock star gig is just a cover?”

Dean felt his mouth twitch into a small smile. He leaned forward conspiratorially. “What gave it away?” he whispered.

“Just little things, here and there,” Cas said with a shrug.

“Hmm,” Dean said, leaning back again. “How can I keep you from spreading this information?”

“Come back for dinner tomorrow,” Cas said, not a hint of hesitation in his voice.

Dean blinked at him, confused. “Here?” he asked.

Cas shook his head. “My house,” he said. “It'll be a little more private. And you won't have fans staring at you every few minutes. Unless you’d rather come back here,” he added quickly.

“No, your place sounds great,” Dean assured him, the smile on his face spreading. “I just need the address.”

*~*~*~*~*

Dean opened his door to find Aaron staring back at him.

“Hey. Everything okay?” Aaron asked, stepping in when Dean opened the door all the way.

“I’m not sure,” Dean replied. He closed the door and sat heavily on the edge of his bed.

“Where’d you disappear to today?” Aaron asked, taking a seat in the chair at the desk so he could face his friend.

“New Haven,” Dean said. “I had lunch with Cas.”

Aaron’s brow knit for a moment. “Your soulmate?” he asked. When Dean nodded, he added, “How’d that go?”

“It was okay, at the beginning,” Dean replied. “And then I told him about us, and then… I don’t know.”

“Did he not take it well?”

“He took it fine, but I don’t think he’s too thrilled about it,” Dean said, shifting uncertainly. He could have sworn Cas had looked pissed off when he told him, but then Cas _said_ that Dean shouldn’t be sorry. Dean just wished he had more time to talk to Cas about it.

“Did you tell him about the girls too?” Aaron asked, remembering a handful of occasions in the past year where Dean had picked up girls at the bar.

Dean shook his head. “One thing at a time,” he said.

Aaron nodded. “Are you seeing him again before we leave?” he asked.

“He invited me to dinner at his house tomorrow,” Dean replied. He was looking down at his hands.

“So talk to him tomorrow,” Aaron said, standing to leave. “That’s all I can think of.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean said.

*~*~*~*~*

“What took you so long?” Charlie asked when Cas slid into the seat across from her.

“I went out to lunch with Dean. It took longer than I thought it would,” Cas replied simply, taking his textbook and his notes out of his bag.

“I thought you said you didn’t have plans,” Charlie said. “We could have rescheduled; the Calc exam isn’t until Wednesday.”

Cas shrugged. “It was easier to keep this time,” he said.

“Yeah, but Dean’s leaving in a few days,” Charlie countered. “You could have spent more time with him. I wouldn’t mind.”

“He’s coming to dinner tomorrow,” Cas shot back, opening his book to the chapter that had been giving him trouble.

“What?” Charlie asked, taken aback. “What’d you talk about today?”

“Not much,” Cas said. He shuffled his notes until he found the sheet he was looking for. “I really need help with chapter 12.”

Charlie studied Cas for a moment. “You’re avoiding something,” she said.

“Not really,” Cas said. “Chapter 12 was the one that confused me the most.”

“Something _else_ ,” Charlie said, rolling her eyes.

Of course he was, but Charlie didn’t know that he’d died, and he didn’t feel like explaining _that_ , which would be necessary for a conversation about his afternoon with Dean. “It’s between me and Dean,” Cas said. “I don’t want to give his stories away.”

“You don’t trust me?” Charlie asked, putting her hand over her heart dramatically.

Cas smiled slightly. “Of course I do,” he said. “But I don’t know him well enough to know what he wants shared.”

“Makes sense,” Charlie said. “Okay, chapter 12.”


	17. Chapter 17

Cas wanted to know who thought it was a good idea to schedule an exam at 8am on a Monday, and then he wanted that person transferred to a different department.

Thankfully, it was a pretty easy test. Cas was fairly certain the professor had made it easy because he didn’t want to be there any more than the students did, but Cas wasn’t going to complain about being done in an hour.

Cas’ mind was so preoccupied with what he had to do with the rest of the day that he didn’t notice Gabriel approaching him until they almost collided.

“Do you ever watch where you’re going?” Gabriel asked, a smirk on his face when Cas pulled up short with a startled look.

“It’s good to see you too Gabriel,” Cas said, breaking into a grin as he hugged his friend.  “What’re you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“A guy can’t surprise his friends?” Gabriel countered. He pulled away from Cas and clapped him on the shoulder. “I stopped by your house already, but your dad said you were taking exams. Thought I’d wait for you.”

“I finished early,” Cas said, resuming his walk. “Is there any particular reason you came to visit?”

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Gabriel said. He stepped in front of Cas to stop him, his face serious and happy in a way Cas had never seen on him before. “I found my soulmate,” he explained, then seemed to think better of it. “I met one of my soulmates. Kali. We had time this week to come here so she could meet everyone.”

Cas’ grin spread wider. “That’s great Gabriel,” he said. “I’m happy for you.”

“I want you to come to dinner tonight to meet her,” Gabriel continued.

Cas’ smile faltered slightly. “I would love to,” he said.

“But,” Gabriel interrupted, his face falling.

“But,” Cas agreed, “I have plans already. With _my_ soulmate.”

Gabriel blinked at him for a moment while the words processed before he smacked Cas’ shoulder good-naturedly. “When were you planning on telling me?” he asked, excitement returning to his features.

“I only met him Saturday night,” Cas said, glancing away sheepishly.

“Saturday _night_?” Gabriel repeated, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Are you leading a secret life I know nothing about?”

“What? No,” Cas said, looking back up, his neck heating slightly.

“I’m kidding,” Gabriel assured him. “What’s his name?”

“Dean Winchester,” Cas replied, trying to keep any trace of smugness out of his voice.

Gabriel’s brows lowered suspiciously. “ _The_ Dean Winchester?”

Cas nodded, stepping around Gabriel. “It’s cold out here,” he observed nonchalantly as he continued on his walk home.

“Dean Winchester is your _soulmate_?” Gabriel asked, catching up to Cas quickly.

“Yes,” Cas said. “I went to his concert with my friends Charlie and Dorothy on Saturday, and they had backstage passes.”

Gabriel huffed a laugh. “Sounds too good to be true,” he said.

Cas shook his head. “We had lunch yesterday. He is definitely my soulmate.”

“You don’t sound too enthusiastic,” Gabriel observed, studying Cas for a moment. “Something wrong?”

“I don’t know.” At least that was the truth.

“What happened?”

Cas hesitated. More than anything, he wanted the ugly feeling in his chest to go away. He’d managed to ignore it, for the most part, since his study session with Charlie the night before, but mention of lunch with Dean brought it to the forefront of his mind. But was that the kind of information he could share with Gabriel?

“Earth to Cas,” Gabriel said after a moment passed in silence. When Cas glanced over at him, he asked, “Is it that bad?”

“I don’t know if it’s something I can share,” Cas replied uncertainly.

Gabriel’s expression darkened. “Do I need to kick his ass?”

“No,” Cas said, a slight smile returning to his face. “It’s just that he mentioned something related to the accident.”

A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran up Gabriel’s spine. He didn’t think about the crash too often these days, but he still occasionally had nightmares about not being able to get Cas out of the car. “What about it?”

“I died for a few minutes,” Cas said, as if Gabriel needed reminding. Gabriel shuddered again at the thought of Cas on the pavement that night. “He couldn’t hear me,” Cas continued, hesitating again.

“And?” Gabriel pressed.

“I don’t have all the information,” Cas said hurriedly. The last thing he wanted was for Gabriel to form an opinion of Dean without ever meeting him. “He said it freaked him out that he couldn’t hear me… And then he told me that he had been involved with someone else.”

Gabriel blinked at him. “He…what?” he asked.

“He was in a relationship with someone else,” Cas repeated.

Gabriel was silent for a moment while he processed that information. “Why?” he finally asked.

“I don’t know,” Cas said. “Not for sure anyway.” The only people he could remember meeting who weren’t in relationships with their soulmates were people whose soulmates had passed away, or his deaf friends who could never hear what those around them sounded like. Not that that meant he hadn’t met any and hadn’t known it; he had simply never had occasion to consider it.

“Are you mad?” Gabriel asked. He was fishing for what reaction he should be having. He didn’t exactly have much experience dissecting people’s personal lives.

Cas shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea,” he said. “I don’t think I should be, but I don’t feel good about it either.”

Gabriel shook his head, at a loss. “I don’t know what to say,” he said.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure you would,” Cas said, his mouth tilted up at one side in an unhappy smile.

“You’ll have to let me know how it goes,” Gabriel said, stopping at the end of the walkway to Cas’ front door. “And then you can meet Kali tomorrow sometime.”

“Sure,” Cas said with a nod. “I look forward to it.”


	18. Chapter 18

Dean stood at the end of the walkway for far longer than was necessary. It was cold, his nose was going numb, and his hands were stiff, but he was still afraid to go up and ring the damn doorbell.

‘It’s just dinner,’ he thought. He knew, of course, that it wasn’t; he would leave the next day for New Hampshire with Aaron, Jo, and Benny, and he didn’t want to leave Cas with any pressing issued left unattended (and he knew there was at least one).

After what seemed like an eternity, Dean took a deep breath and walked up to the door. He rang the doorbell with shaking fingers, and shoved his hands in his pockets as he waited.

The puff of warm air that hit him when the door opened was pleasant, and it made Dean realize just how cold his face was. “Good evening,” he said to the man who had opened the door. He was smaller than Cas, but had similar blue eyes. “Is this the Shurley residence?”

“It is,” the man said. “You must be Dean,” he added with a friendly smile. He stepped aside to allow Dean to enter. “You can call me Chuck. I’m Castiel’s father.”

“Dean Winchester,” Dean said, extending his hand politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Chuck said, shaking Dean’s cold hand quickly. “Let me take your jacket,” Chuck offered.

“Oh, sure, thanks.” Dean was startled by the offer, since most other places he went he just kept his jacket with him, maybe hung it on the back of his chair at dinner. Nonetheless, he shrugged the coat off his shoulders and handed it to Chuck, who hung it on a hook on the wall beside the door before leading him further into the house.

“I hope you like pasta. We’ve been too busy to get much together for a big meal,” Chuck said, half-apologetically, as they approached the dining room.

“Sounds great,” Dean said, looking around uncertainly at the house. It was so much more orderly than his parents’ house, and the clean lines and empty space made him wary; it was almost as if the place didn’t look lived in.

“You made it.”

Dean glanced up at the voice to see Cas walking through the doorway from the kitchen, smoothing his wild hair down self-consciously. “Of course I made it,” Dean said with a relieved smile. He was grateful for something familiar to hold onto, and Cas looked far more casual than the rest of the place. Where the furniture was neat and organized, and the place settings meticulously set out on the table, Cas’ hair was sticking up in at least six different directions, and his clothes looked slightly rumpled, as if he’d spent an extended amount of time in bed that day.

“Is everything still coming along in the kitchen?” Chuck asked.

Cas nodded. “The sauce is on the back burner to keep it warm, and the pasta should be almost finished boiling,” he replied.

“Alright, you two make yourselves comfortable, I’ll go finish dinner,” Chuck said, waving them to the table.

“Do you want something to drink?” Cas asked, motioning for Dean to take a seat. “Water, tea, coffee?”

“Water, I guess,” Dean replied, taking his seat. He worried the edge of the table cloth until Cas returned, setting a glass of water in front of each of their places at the table and taking the seat on Dean’s left.

“This is a nice place,” Dean said as Cas sat down, unsure of what else to say.

“Yeah, dad wanted it cleaned up for company,” Cas said, glancing around the room with a wry smile. “It’s not usually this tidy.” He turned his gaze on Dean. “You didn’t have any trouble finding it, did you?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, you’re pretty good with giving directions.”

“Good.”

“Did you spend all day in bed though?” Dean asked, once again taking in Cas’ disheveled appearance with a slightly amused smile on his face.

Cas glanced down at himself, awkwardly pulling at the hem of his shirt to try to straighten it. “No, I had an exam this morning,” he said. “And then I cleaned up around here a little, and then I tried to study, but I fell asleep.” Cas hadn’t even considered that his clothes might need to be changed before dinner. In fact, he hadn’t even really noticed that they were wrinkled until Dean mentioned it. “Does it look that bad?” he asked.

“What? No,” Dean said quickly. “I’m sorry. You look comfortable. Don’t worry about it.”

Cas ducked his head, somewhere between pleased and embarrassed.

“You’re adorable,” Dean breathed, before he could stop himself. Immediately, he felt heat travel all the way up his neck to his ears. Was it true? Sure. But that didn’t mean Dean was the kind of person to go around expressing such sentiments. “I mean, the universe could have made a worse choice for me.”

Cas breathed a surprised laugh as a blush crept up his neck. “You aren’t so bad either,” he said, a lopsided smile on his face, still looking at the table.

Dean was relieved at the lightening of the mood, and he could feel some of his anxieties melting away. “I might have to put that on my résumé,” he said thoughtfully, leaning back in his seat ponderously. “I’ll have it under ‘distinguishing qualities,’” he decided. “’My soulmate doesn’t think I’m so bad to look at.’”

“And if that gets you a job?” Cas asked, laughing and sitting back in his chair. “What do I get?”

“Bragging rights,” Dean said, keeping a serious look on his face for exactly half a second before he couldn’t keep himself from laughing anymore; he couldn’t help it – Cas’ laugh was infectious.

“Sounds like everyone’s having a good time,” Chuck said as he reentered the room, setting food on the table.

“Even better now that the food’s here,” Dean said.

“I’m sure,” Chuck replied, taking his seat across from Cas.

*~*~*~*~*

After dinner, Dean offered to help with the dishes. Chuck didn’t want to let him help, insisting that, as the guest, Dean didn’t need to help with cleanup. But when Chuck had to take a call from Crowley about one thing or another, Dean took it upon himself to help with the dishes anyway.

“Thanks for having me over,” Dean said, taking the dishes Cas handed him to dry.

“Thanks for coming over,” Cas replied. “I’m glad you could.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” Dean said, bumping Cas’ shoulder.

They continued in their rhythm for a few minutes, Cas washing the dishes before handing them to Dean to be dried. The silence was comfortable, as if they hadn’t just met a few nights before.

“When are you leaving?” Cas finally asked.

“Tomorrow,” Dean replied. “We’re heading up to New Hampshire.”

Cas nodded. “How long are you going to be on tour?”

“A while,” Dean said, trying to remember what all the dates were. “A few more months, at least.” He glanced up, brow furrowing when he noticed the contemplative look on Cas’ face. “Something bothering you?”

Cas shrugged. “Just what you said at lunch the other day.” He tried to keep his voice even, but he was afraid he sounded put-out. “I wanted to talk about that before you left.”

Dean studied Cas for a moment as he dried the last piece of cutlery. He glanced around, hearing Chuck’s muffled voice from the office down the hall. “So talk now,” he suggested, turning his attention back to Cas as they started putting the cleaned dishes away.

“I don’t know what to say,” Cas said helplessly.

“Well, why does it bother you?” Dean asked after a moment of thought. That seemed like the best place to start.

Cas was silent a moment as he considered. “You _knew_ I existed,” he finally decided on. He tried to say it calmly, but there was an accusing edge to his voice.

“I know,” Dean said.

“So why?” Cas asked. “I guess that’s all I want to know.”

Dean took a deep breath. He’d been doing a lot of thinking on that subject. “I felt like part of me died,” he said. “I was scared, I don’t know.” He turned to face Cas, who was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Look,” he started again, walking to the other side of the kitchen to stand beside Cas. “Everyone likes to talk about how they met their soulmate, right?”

“Sure,” Cas said with a short nod.

“You mostly hear about everyone who got their happy ending. When you died… I don’t know. It felt like someone took it away from me. Or like someone could take it away from me. I wanted to get it back,” Dean explained. He shifted uncomfortably under Cas’ unrelenting gaze. He felt like Cas was staring into him, and he leaned back in an attempt to not look as nervous as he felt. “I didn’t want to never see what it felt like.”

“You could have waited,” Cas said, the hurt plain in his voice.

“But I didn’t know what was going on with you,” Dean said, willing Cas to understand, though he thought that might be unreasonable. “I didn’t know what caused it – if it was a chronic thing or a one-off thing or what. I was scared. I’m sorry.”

Cas had kept a steady watch on Dean while Dean had been talking, but now he dropped his gaze. “This…other person,” he started.

“Found his soulmate,” Dean cut in. “We haven’t been together in more than a year.”

Cas glanced up at Dean from under his lashes. “Anything else I need to know about?”

Dean bit his lip before he sighed. “Right after that other person broke it off, I was a wreck,” he admitted, his cheeks turning red. He paused for a moment, making sure Chuck’s voice was still somewhere down the hall before he continued in a hushed tone, “I… Well, I, uh, slept around, on and off, for a few weeks.”

Cas blinked blankly, trying to process that.

“You’re upset,” Dean observed, his voice upset, though he wasn’t sure he expected any other reaction. “I’m really sorry Cas. My head wasn’t screwed on right, and it was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” Cas said, looking down again. He supposed he did understand, though that didn’t stop the ugly feeling in his chest.

The sight of Cas looking so downtrodden made Dean’s heart twist painfully in his chest, and he swore then and there that he’d never let such a look worm its way onto Cas’ face again. “I’m here for you now,” Dean offered. He felt hope in his chest when Cas looked up at him. “I know I’m not much, but I’m all yours. If you still want me.”

Cas rolled his eyes, and Dean felt his heart sink until Cas said, “ _Dean Winchester_ thinks he’s not much.” The start of a smirk curled Cas’ lips. “I think you could be just enough.”

“I’ll take ‘could be,’” Dean said hopefully.

“And ‘just enough?’” Cas asked skeptically, cocking a brow at him.

“If that’s what I can get,” Dean said with a shrug. Really a chance was all he wanted; he might have only just met Cas, but he couldn’t deny that there was something captivating about the blue-eyed young man who’d suddenly come into his life.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” Cas suggested after a moment of silence.

Dean’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure? It’s pretty cold out there.”

“I have a jacket,” Cas replied, pushing off from the counter and making his way down the hall.

Dean leaned around the doorway to watch Cas before he decided to follow behind him.

Cas’ room didn’t seem very big to Dean, but that could have just been the chaos contained within it. The bed was unmade with a notebook open on one side; the desk on the opposite side of the room was littered with notes and textbooks; there was a backpack on the floor surrounded by various scattered articles of clothing.

“Sorry about the mess,” Cas said, picking a sweater up off the ground and tossing it into the corner, where it seemed there was a pile of dirty laundry. “It’s not usually like this, but with exams, I haven’t had a chance to clean it up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said, waving off Cas’ concern. “This is more what I’m used to a house looking like.”

“I’m glad it isn’t too off-putting, then,” Cas said.

Dean just shook his head and wandered around the room while Cas dug through the closet for a jacket. He stopped at the desk and flipped through one of the textbooks (something about psychology). The book shifted slightly, and Dean spotted something peeking out from below the cover. Curious, he tugged on the corner to find one of the early CDs he and the band had released. He smiled to himself and held it up, turning to look at Cas, who had pulled his jacket on and was tying a scarf around his neck.

“This was a good one,” Dean said, holding the CD case out to Cas.

“They’re all good,” Cas countered, turning his head to better see which one it was.

“I guess you’re right about that,” Dean said, setting the disk down again. “Jo and Benny are awesome writers.”

“I agree,” Cas said. He checked to make sure his keys were in his pocket before he turned to leave, gesturing for Dean to follow him. On his way to the door, he stopped by his dad’s office, quickly telling him where they were going.

“Don’t be back too late,” Chuck warned, a hand over the receiver of the phone.

“I know,” Cas said. “No more than an hour.”

Chuck gave him a thumbs-up before going back to what was apparently an ear-full from Crowley.

“Who’s he talking to?” Dean asked as he pulled his coat off the hook by the door.

“His literary agent,” Cas explained.

Dean’s brow furrowed. “He writes?”

Cas nodded. “The _Supernatural_ books.”

Dean huffed a laugh as Cas reached past him to open the door.

“Something funny?” Cas asked, confused.

“Not ‘ha-ha’ funny,” Dean said, stepping out into the cold. A chill ran through him, and he shoved his hands in his pockets as he waited for Cas to lock the door. “I’m a fan of your dad’s writing; you’re a fan of my band’s music. Everyone’s a fan of everyone around here.”

Cas studied Dean for a moment before he stepped off the little porch and down the walkway, Dean close behind him. “I thought you said you were reading those because your friend was a fan,” he said.

Dean shrugged. “That’s why I started reading them. They aren’t bad though.”

“I’ll make sure to tell him you said that.”

“That might be weird,” Dean said after a moment of consideration.

“How would it be weird?” Cas asked.

“It’s weird enough to think that my soulmate is also my fan,” Dean said. “Finding out your kid’s soulmate is your fan wouldn’t be much better.”

“You think it’s weird?”

“I met you because you had Backstage Passes to one of our concerts,” Dean pointed out. “It’s a little weird.”

“In my defense, the Passes were not my idea,” Cas countered. “Charlie and Dorothy had gotten them without telling me.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t want to come back,” Dean teased, bumping into Cas’ shoulder affectionately as they walked.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Of course I did. I was just clarifying that it wasn’t my idea.”

“They want to surprise you or something?”

“They thought I had a crush on you,” Cas said with a nod, watching the ground.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Were they right?”

Cas stopped walking and turned to face Dean, his head cocked to one side in confusion. “I knew you were my soulmate,” he said simply.

“Sure,” Dean said, stopping so he could look Cas in the eye. “But did you have a crush on me?”

Suddenly Cas wasn’t so sure. He had thought that’s what it had been, but maybe it had only been the knowledge that Dean was the one who was meant for him. “What do you mean?”

“You know, you can’t stop thinking about the other person. And you just want to be close to them,” Dean said. “It’s kind of a romantic thing, I guess.”

Cas shifted uncomfortably. “Like an…infatuation?”

Dean shrugged. “I guess.”

Weird. Cas had never thought of it like that. “I…don’t know then,” he said in a small voice. “I don’t know if it’s a crush.” He was abruptly hit with the thought that maybe Dean would think there was something wrong with him. And it didn’t help Cas’ thought process when Dean was quiet for a moment, just studying him.

But Dean just inclined his head curiously. “I guess we’ll just see what happens then,” he said.

“You aren’t upset?”

“Not even a little,” Dean replied. “But how about we keep walking? It’s freezing out here.”

Cas nodded dumbly and followed after when Dean started walking aimlessly down the sidewalk. A frigid breeze forced Cas to hunch his shoulders and pull his scarf closer to his ears. A sound from beside him made his glance over, and he saw Dean holding out a pair of gloves to him.

“You look cold,” Dean said with a small smile.

“But you need them,” Cas protested.

“Not really,” Dean said, not dropping his hand. “And you look colder than I feel.”

Cas hesitated another moment before he gratefully took the gloves and forced them onto his shivering hands.

“This is a nice neighborhood,” Dean said, looking around at the houses lining the street.

“It is,” Cas agreed. He spotted Gabriel’s house and pointed over to it. “My friend lives over there when he’s home from school,” he said. “He’s home now. I would have asked if you wanted to meet him, but his own soulmate is here with him.”

Dean followed Cas’ line of sight to a cozy two-story across the street. The curtains were drawn, but there was a warm light shining against them. “We could go knock on the door,” he suggested.

For a moment, Cas considered it. He did want Gabriel and Dean to meet, but he didn’t think he could handle any more excitement for one night. “Not right now,” he said. “I think I’d rather just walk with you for a while.”

“Next time then,” Dean said with a smile.


	19. Chapter 19

Dean’s alarm went off far too early the next morning. He hit the snooze button three or four times, trying to get back to a dream he already couldn’t remember, until he heard someone pounding on his door.

“We’re leaving in fifteen minutes,” Jo said, her voice slightly muffled through the door. “Are you coming down for breakfast or not?”

Dean groaned and sat up. “I’ll be down in five minutes,” he shouted back, though his voice was still thick with sleep and it didn’t come out quite as annoyed as he wanted it to.

He shoved the comforter aside and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting there for a minute instead of actually getting up to do anything. He must have been taking too long, because his phone went off and he found a message from Benny saying that if he didn’t get down to breakfast, one of them was going to go get him.

With a sigh, Dean rushed through his morning routine and threw his clothes in his duffle before heading downstairs.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Jo commented when Dean plopped unceremoniously into the seat across from her with his plate of probably-not-as-bad-as-it-looked continental breakfast.

“I had an hour drive last night,” Dean said, “and it’s six in the morning.”

“And you have five minutes to eat before we leave,” Aaron pointed out.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Dean asked, already shoveling food into his mouth and taking pulls from the cup of coffee he’d gotten. He almost never drank coffee (Jo liked to remind him caffeine was bad for his singing voice (Dean thought she did it as an excuse to make him suffer through early mornings)), but right now, he was so tired he would probably kill someone if they tried to take his drink from him.

“Late night?” Benny asked when Dean set the drained Styrofoam cup back on the table.

“Late enough,” Dean replied, his mouth full.

“How late?” Jo asked suggestively.

Dean shook his head and took another bite of his breakfast. He and Cas had returned from their walk at around nine, and Dean managed to stall his departure until nine thirty. There hadn’t been any traffic on the way back to his hotel, so Dean made it back by ten thirty. And then he’d started talking to Cas – at first over texts, and then on the phone, and they’d stayed up talking until one, when Dean finally decided he needed to get to sleep if he was going to be able to get up and make the flight with everyone else.

Their manager walked in just a minute later to herd them into the car that was going to take them to the airport.

‘It’s too early for this,’ Dean thought. Even with the caffeine in his system, his eyelids were drooping on the ride to the airport, and Benny had to shake him to wake him up when the car pulled to a stop.

After getting through security and finding their gate, the band settled into their seats to wait the twenty minutes or so before boarding began. Dean was about to close his eyes for a nap when he heard his phone go off in his pocket.

“Who the hell is awake this early?” he muttered, digging out his phone. _New Message: Castiel._ Dean smiled when the saw the words, and Jo nudged him when she saw the look on his face.

**_Good morning. I think I remember you said your flight leaves early today. I just wanted to wish you a safe trip._ **

Dean was grinning like an idiot and he didn’t even care that Jo was smirking at him. How was it he liked this guy so much after only three days? He didn’t know, and he also didn’t care.

 ** _Thanks, and good morning to you too. We board in like half an hour._** Dean sent the message before another thought occurred to him and he typed out another one. **_What are you doing up so early?_**

“Is that _Castiel_?” Jo teased.

“Yes, it is,” Dean said matter-of-factly.

“Tell him I said hi.”

“Sure, I guess.”

The phone went off again, and Dean tried to check it without looking too eager.

**_I have two exams this morning. The first one is at eight._ **

Dean furrowed his brow in concern. He’d stayed up too late before an exam before, in high school, and he knew it wasn’t something he would ever want to do again. **_Why didn’t you say something? I wouldn’t have kept you up so late if I knew._**

It wasn’t long before the next message came through. **_I don’t mind. It was nice to talk to you. I’ll catch up on sleep later._**

Dean smiled and rolled his eyes affectionately at the message. He was pretty sure that wasn’t how sleep worked, but he wasn’t going to bring it up; after all, Cas was the Psychology major – he probably knew how sleep worked. **_Good luck on your exams then._**

**_Thank you._ **

In all seriousness, Cas wasn’t too worried about his exams that day, even though he was only running on four or five hours of sleep. He wasn’t even worried about going to lunch with Gabriel and Kali after his exams. Mostly he just worried that Dean would have a safe trip north.

*~*~*~*~*

“You know, you should probably call your brother at some point too,” Cas said when he answered the phone, lounging in his bed and leaning against the headboard. Not that he was complaining; he liked that Dean had called him so often in the past couple weeks. This was already the second time they’d spoken that day. “I know you said he’s in some kind of high school dual-enrollment program, but I’m sure he’d pick up the phone.”

“I did,” Dean said. “The show’s been over for an hour. I already called Sammy _and_ my parents, just for good measure.”

Cas could hear the smile in Dean’s voice, and the sound pulled the corners of his mouth up. “How’d the show go? You’re in Toronto, right?”

“Yeah. I don’t know whose idea it was to go _north_ before spring actually starts, but it was great, actually. It was a good crowd.”

“As good as Hartford?” Cas asked, and he could almost hear Dean roll his eyes.

“Maybe not.”

“You didn’t find another soulmate did you?” Cas teased.

Dean chuckled at the other end of the line. “No I didn’t. My headspace is all yours.”

Cas ducked his head, even though there was no one else in the room to see the goofy smile that had spread across his face. He still wasn’t sure if he’d gotten over the fact that Dean had been with several other people before he’d met him, but Cas had certainly decided that he liked Dean. “Not to change the subject,” Cas started when he glanced up and spotted something on his desk.

“But totally to change the subject,” Dean interjected.

Cas rolled his eyes and shook his head, “I was cleaning my room the other day, and I found the gloves you let me use when we went on that walk a couple weeks ago.”

“Awesome. I’ve been looking for those.”

“Sorry,” Cas said, thinking about how cold it must be further north.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said. “I have another pair. I was just worried I’d left them at a hotel or on a plane or something.”

“Well, they’re here waiting for you when you need them,” Cas said.

“What about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“Are you there waiting for me?”

Cas chuckled. “Yes, I think so.”

*~*~*~*~*

Dean really needed to see Sam while he was in California. Stanford was only about an hour away from San Francisco, and Dean had a day free after the show.

It only took a little bit of planning to find a time when Sam was free; Dean didn’t know how the kid had gotten himself into the program and convinced their parents to let him attend, considering it was several hundred miles from home and Sam was only sixteen, but he wasn’t going to question it. The kid was in a good program and having a good time, so who was he to question it?

Unfortunately, when Dean walked into the café where he was meeting Sam, several pairs of eyes were immediately on him. Fantastic. Sam must have told a few of his friends that he was meeting his brother for lunch.

“Dean!”

Dean turned toward the familiar voice and spotted Sam at a table in the corner. He smiled and made his way over to his brother, trying to both ignore and acknowledge the people who were obviously his fans.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean said as he slid into his seat. “You wouldn’t have anything to do with all the fans here, would you?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “The people around here are fans without my help.”

“Good to know,” Dean said smugly. “So none of your friends are hiding out anywhere around here?” Dean made a show of looking around the restaurant. He smiled at the people who happened to be looking back at him.

“I didn’t say that.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh as he turned back to his brother. “Alright, fair enough.”

The waitress walked over just then and took their orders. She recommended some kind of soup that didn’t sound at all appetizing to Dean. Dean ordered a burger. Sam ordered a sub.

“So aside from using your brother’s name to make friends, how are things on this coast?” Dean asked.

“I do _not_ use your name to make friends,” Sam said. “I make friends on my own. I use your name to get the assholes at school to leave me alone.”

Dean almost laughed, but concern won out. “Assholes bother you at school?” Immediately, he was in protective-big-brother mode.

“Not usually,” Sam said with a shrug.

“Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

“No. I had to knock someone down once, and now they pretty much leave me alone.”

“You never mentioned that,” Dean said, feeling pride swell in his chest. Some twisted part of him hoped Sam had broken the kid’s nose.

Sam shrugged. “They sent me home, so Gwen knew, but it wasn’t that big a deal.”

Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Gwen?”

“Yeah. Mom’s cousin,” Sam said. When Dean continued to look at him blankly, he added, “She flew out for mom and dad’s anniversary, like, five years ago. I’m living with her while I’m here.”

Dean thought he vaguely remembered her, but he wasn’t entirely sure. “I’ll take your word for it,” he said.

“You would,” Sam said with a smirk.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Tell me about school then.”

They talked through their meal and past it, and they were interrupted by fans only three times, which Dean thought was impressive – when the whole band was out together, they had fans around them all the time. Not that Dean minded.

“Where are you going next?” Sam asked as they walked out to Dean’s rental.

Dean thought for a moment, but he was drawing a blank. “I have no idea,” he said as he slid behind the wheel. “I was just going to show up to whatever plane they told me to get on.”

Sam still had his hand on the open door, a contemplative look on his face.

“Anything else you need?” Dean prompted.

“Have you told anyone about Cas?” Sam asked.

“Anyone like mom and dad?” Dean asked, confused.

Sam shook his head. “Anyone, like, does the public know? Like am I allowed to mention it, or is it a secret?”

Dean considered that. He hadn’t actively been trying to hide Cas from anyone, but he hadn’t gone shouting the news from the rooftops either. “I guess if it comes up in conversation, you can say something,” Dean finally decided. “It’s not a secret, anyway.”

Sam nodded. “We were talking about soulmates the other day and I didn’t want to say anything you didn’t want me to.”

“Thanks Sammy,” Dean said, smiling at his little brother. “But I really need to get going.”

“Oh, sure,” Sam said, taking a step back from the car.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Dean promised, closing the door and starting the car.

*~*~*~*~*

Cas was sitting in his living room with Charlie. Charlie had come over for dinner that day so that afterwards they could help each other study for final exams, which would be starting the next week.

Cas was holding up flashcards for Charlie when his phone rang. He apologized sheepishly when he went to answer it, but Charlie just grinned at him when he answered and put the phone on speaker.

“Hello Dean,” he said into the receiver, trying to ignore the look Charlie was giving him.

“Hey Cas,” Dean said. “I’m not interrupting dinner am I? It’s seven there, right?”

“Yes it is, and we just finished dinner,” Cas replied. “Charlie and I are studying for finals.”

“I’ll be quick then,” Dean said. “I just wanted to warn you that I might be in the tabloids or gossip magazines or whatever. Not for anything bad, I promise.”

Cas' brows furrowed and he glanced at Charlie, who was leaning forward as well. “What for?” Cas asked.

“I was talking to my brother today, and apparently he and his friends were talking about soulmates. He asked if it was alright if he mentioned us if it came up. I didn’t see a problem, so I told him it was fine,” Dean explained.

“They’ll put you in a magazine for that?”

Charlie made a face as if to say  _duh_.

“Not that specifically,” Dean was saying, and Cas could hear the smile in his voice. “But if he mentions that Dean Winchester found his soulmate, everyone’s gonna be asking who it is, and wondering who it might be. People eat that shit up for some reason. You might see my name is all I’m saying. Maybe yours too, but he only knows you as ‘Cas.’ I can call him and tell him to keep a lid on it if it would make you feel better.”

“Is he doing anything for your birthday?” Charlie whispered abruptly.

Cas shot her a look to try to get her to keep quiet. “No, it’s alright Dean,” he said. “And I suppose I should let everyone wonder?”

Dean chuckled on the other end of the line. “You can tell people, I don’t mind. But then they’ll put you in the spotlight too.”

“Good point,” Cas said thoughtfully.

“Ask him if he’s doing anything for your birthday,” Charlie said, a little more forcefully that time, a little louder.

“I’m not asking him that,” Cas hissed.

“What’s that?” Dean asked. "Did I hear Charlie?"

Cas glared at Charlie. “Yes, Charlie’s sitting with me. She wants me to ask if you’re doing anything for my birthday,” Cas said.

“It’s your birthday?” Dean asked.

“On Friday,” Cas replied. Then he added quickly, “I understand you’re on tour. I don’t expect anything more than the usual phone call.”

“Sure, yeah,” Dean said thoughtfully. “Friday. I’ll remember that.”


	20. Chapter 20

Cas’ last class on Friday ended at four-thirty, and the only thing he could think about on his walk home was how much he would have to study over the weekend.  By the time he made it to his front door, he had a rough schedule planned out in his mind; he wouldn’t get any studying done that night because Hannah and Gabriel and Balthazar were coming over for dinner for his birthday, and he’d call Dean that night and likely stay up far too late, but starting Saturday he would make sure he started looking at the material he was having a harder time with.

He promptly forgot all about his upcoming exams when he walked in the house and heard a familiar laugh that didn’t belong to anyone he was related to drifting down the hall from the kitchen.

“I’m home!” he called. He didn’t usually announce his presence, but he figured he’d rather have someone come tell him what was going on than just walk into the kitchen and have it confirmed for him.

Cas started walking down the hall and was greeted by Hannah walking quickly toward him and throwing her arms around him when they reached each other.

“Happy birthday Cas! How’ve you been?” Hannah asked when she pulled back. “How’re classes going?”

“I’m doing well,” Cas replied, trying to keep his attention on her and not on who might be waiting for him around the corner. “Classes aren’t too bad, but finals start next week.”

“Try not to think about finals on your birthday, hmm?” Hannah said, taking her brother’s wrist and leading him to the kitchen. “Someone’s already here to see you.”

Cas was expecting to see Dean, sure, but what he wasn’t expecting to see was Dean wiping his hands on one of Cas’ mother’s aprons that Chuck had never been able to part with. Cas figured he must look confused, because Dean grinned when he saw him and said, “What? I’m not allowed to surprise you on your birthday?”

“Did you know he was coming?” Cas asked Chuck.

Chuck nodded. “He called the other day.”

“Your home number _is_ in the phonebook Cas,” Dean said, crossing the room to him and shedding the apron as he went. He looked like he’d dressed up for the event with a pair of dark jeans and a button down, and the sight, while pleasant, was also not something Cas had expected to see; it was almost like Dean was trying to make a good impression on someone.

“I know it is,” Cas said. He didn’t even question it when Dean hugged him in greeting, instead wrapping his arms around Dean. “But you’re supposed to be on tour. I didn’t expect to see you.”

“You can always expect to see me on your birthday,” Dean said as he pulled back. “Besides, I was told it’s your twenty-first birthday.”

Cas rolled his eyes, belatedly realizing that Dean Winchester had _hugged_ him when they hadn’t ever even touched each other, and they hadn’t seen each other in almost two months. He forced himself not to think about that too much. “Just because it’s my twenty-first birthday doesn’t mean anything special.”

“You can have a glass of wine with dinner,” Hannah pointed out. Dean gave her an approving look, as if she’d taken the words right out of his mouth.

“I never understood why that was such a big deal,” Cas said, his brow wrinkling as another thought occurred to him. “And since when do we have wine?” Sure, his dad had a beer every so often, but Cas could never remember _wine_ being in the house.

“Dean brought a bottle,” Chuck said, nodding toward the bottle that was tucked into the corner on the counter for later.

Cas gave Dean an inquiring look. “ _You_ drink wine?” he asked. Dean hadn’t struck him as the type, especially since the first sign he asked to be taught, that night after the concert, was how to order a _beer_.

“Not usually,” Dean admitted with a shrug.

Before Cas could ask too many questions, the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house.

“I’ll get that,” Hannah volunteered, making her way down the hall almost before the sound had died away.

“Go have a seat,” Chuck said, waving Dean and Cas out of the kitchen. “Hannah and I can take it from here.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asked.

Chuck waved him off.

“Who are you and what have you done with Dean?” Cas whispered.

“You’re twenty one. I thought I’d make an occasion of it,” Dean said. “Besides-”

“ _Castiel_. How the hell are you?”

Cas started at the sound of his name and looked up to find Gabriel sauntering into the room while Hannah disappeared into the kitchen, rolling her eyes as she went. “Better now that I’m here, I’m sure,” Gabriel added.

“Of course,” Cas said, raising an amused eyebrow.

“And this must be Dean,” Gabriel said, walking in a circle around Dean as if he were appraising his worth. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good, I hope,” Dean commented, tracking Gabriel with his eyes almost defensively. When Gabriel didn’t say anything, Dean started to worry that he’d done something wrong that Cas hadn’t told him about.

Cas could feel the tension in the room start to rise. “Dean, this is Gabriel. Gabriel, Dean,” he said.

“So _this_ is Gabriel,” Dean said, meeting Gabriel’s gaze when the latter finally stood still and looked him in the face. “I guess I’ve heard a lot about you too.” He tried to be nonchalant, like it was an off-hand comment, but he couldn’t quite shake his discomfort at how Gabriel seemed to be sizing him up.

“All good, I’m sure,” Gabriel said with a cocky grin on his face.

Dean’s brow furrowed, unsure what to make of that statement. He glanced over at Cas for some kind of intervention.

“How’s Kali, Gabe?” Cas asked abruptly.

“Since when do you call me ‘Gabe’?” Gabriel asked, caught off guard. He turned to face Cas instead of Dean, and Dean relaxed at the lack of attention.

“Just now?” Cas said with a shrug.

Gabriel pursed his lips for a moment before shrugging and taking a seat in the armchair. “Kali’s great,” he said. “She’s already finished with her finals, and she leaves for a summer program abroad next week.”

“That’s exciting,” Cas said, taking a seat on the couch and motioning for Dean to take a seat on his far side – away from Gabriel.

Dean was grateful to sit with Cas between him and Gabriel. The more they (i.e., Cas and Gabriel) talked, the more Dean decided he didn’t mind Gabriel, though he still wasn’t sure what Gabriel’s attitude when they met had been about.

“Is anyone else coming?” Gabriel asked.

“Balthazar should be here soon,” Cas said.

“Who’s Balthazar?” Dean asked. It wasn’t exactly a common name, and he was sure he had heard it before, but he couldn’t remember in what context.

“He’s a friend we grew up with,” Cas explained.

“When was the last time you saw him?” Gabriel asked.

“A couple years ago,” Cas replied thoughtfully. “He doesn’t come home often. I talk to him occasionally, but the last time I really saw him was right after you left for school.”

A confused look made its way across Gabriel’s features. “Really? Because he and I met up in March,” he said. “Kali has family out west, so we spent Spring Break in California, not far from where he’s living. We saw him two or three days while we were out there. I don’t see him _all_ the time, but I’ve seen him a few times in the last couple years.”

Dean could tell Cas was confused, but he thought Cas looked a little hurt too. He suddenly felt protective of Cas. “Why wouldn’t he come back here?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel said. He was still paying attention to Cas, as if he were trying to puzzle that out as well.

The doorbell rang just a moment later, making the three of them startle out of their conversation. “That would be him,” Cas said. He heard Balthazar’s voice carry down the hall as Chuck answered the door and sent Balthazar into the living room.

“It’s been too long,” Cas said, smiling and standing to greet his friend, his mood from just a few minutes before momentarily forgotten.

Balthazar started to reply, but he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced away. He had to do a double take, just to be sure he was seeing correctly. “That’s Dean Winchester,” he said, a puzzled look on his face.

Dean sighed inwardly. He had hoped the attention would stay off of him for the night. “That’s me,” he said.

“He’s my soulmate,” Cas explained. “Dean, this is Balthazar.”

“’S good to meet you,” Dean said, standing and offering his hand.

Balthazar shook Dean’s hand and said, “I wish I could say the same.”

Dean hadn’t thought he could feel more out of place after Gabriel’s greeting (or lack thereof), but it seemed he could be proven wrong. “Something I did?” Dean asked.

“Oh yeah,” Balthazar said, withdrawing his hand. “You know you cause the worst traffic in downtown San Francisco I’ve ever seen?”

Dean’s eye narrowed and his brow knit in confusion. “What?”

“You were there last week, weren’t you?” Balthazar asked. “Traffic was awful. Not that I was caught in it. Or on my way to the show, for that matter.”

Dean looked around at the others in the room, wondering if they were as confused as he was. “Sorry?”

“Oh, it’s not your fault,” Balthazar said, waving Dean off. “I just thought you should know.”

“Okay?” Dean said, not entirely sure what to make of the situation.

“Good talk,” Balthazar said, patting Dean’s shoulder as he turned his attention to his friends. “So how’ve you been Cassie?”

They went back to their seats with Dean sitting between Cas and Balthazar on the couch. Dean had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

*~*~*~*~*

Dinner was not as bad as Dean had thought it would be. Gabriel and Balthazar were much more personable, even if they did take the occasional jab at Dean.

Dean was proud of himself for bringing a wine that everyone seemed to like. Cas even had a glass, and Dean counted it as a win when Cas commented on how much he liked it. He’d also helped bake the cake, and he was pleased that everyone enjoyed it.

When the meal was finished, Hannah and Chuck shooed the rest of them back into the living room.

“What are we watching?” Balthazar asked, plopping unceremoniously into the armchair Gabriel had been sitting in earlier.

“If you don’t get out of my seat, we’re going to watch me kick your ass,” Gabriel said, though he didn’t sound like he meant it. He was scanning the shelves beside the TV for something that looked entertaining.

“Well I don’t want to sit next to the soulmates during the movie,” Balthazar countered, further sprawling in the armchair.

“And I do?” Gabriel shot back, still running his index finger over the movie titles as he tried to make a decision.

Cas rolled his eyes, though he was sure no one but Dean was paying him any attention. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

Dean watched Cas disappear down the hall before he sat on the couch, leaning against the armrest and expecting silence until Cas returned. Instead, he was surprised to find that Gabriel and Balthazar actually had something to say to him.

Gabriel glanced down the hall, leaning back to make sure the coast was clear before he went back to his searching. “You know us giving you a hard time tonight is nothing personal, right Dean?”

“What?” Dean asked, glancing between the other two people in the room.

“We’re giving you a hard time because we care about _him_ , not because we have anything against you,” Balthazar explained simply, shrugging in his seat. “You actually seem like a stand-up guy.”

“Cas has been our friend for a long time,” Gabriel added, not looking up from his movie search. “We like to make sure he’s taken care of.”

“You’re…protective of him?” Dean asked. He was a little surprised; he didn’t think they seemed like the protective types.

“Something like that,” Balthazar said. He wasn’t looking at Dean when Dean looked over at him.

Before Dean could ask what that meant, there was a flush and the sound of running water coming from down the hall, and Gabriel and Balthazar went back to talking about movie choices. Dean decided to let it go, and lounged against the armrest of the couch while they talked.

“Everyone still seems to be alive,” Cas said when he walked back in.

“And with a suitable movie choice,” Gabriel said, inserting the movie and hitting play before making his way to the couch. He sat against the available armrest.

“At least I know it came off my shelf,” Cas said.

“You don’t trust my movie choices?” Gabriel asked, feigning offence.

“Not particularly,” Cas said, grinning when Gabriel swatted at him. “I’m getting popcorn. Anyone want any?”

Gabriel and Balthazar both said they did, but Dean declined. Even so, when Cas returned and handed out bags of popcorn, Dean found himself sneaking kernels from Cas’ bag. And at some point, he ended up holding the bag with Cas leaning against his shoulder and taking handfuls.

When the popcorn bag was empty, Dean set it on the end table and put his arm around Cas’ shoulders; it seemed natural to him, even though they were actively talking about the movie with two other people. He was grateful when Balthazar and Gabriel didn’t comment on it.


	21. Chapter 21

Dean was having trouble sleeping. He’d maintained that he should get a hotel so he wouldn’t disturb anyone when he left early the morning after Cas’ birthday, but Chuck wouldn’t hear it, and insisted that Dean stay in the spare room instead. It took some convincing, but Dean had agreed, and he did think Cas’ reaction when he hadn’t left for the night had been priceless – somewhere between confused and surprised and eager.

However, it didn’t seem to help Dean’s ability to sleep that Cas was just down the hall. That old tugging in his gut was back, seemingly because Cas was _so close_ , and the sensation was making it difficult for Dean to actually lose consciousness. After a while he just gave up and stared at the ceiling, debating the merits of going to wake Cas up to ask if he was having the same problem.

Dean jumped when there was a soft knock on his door, followed by a quiet “Dean?”

“Just a second,” Dean said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and walking to the door. He wasn’t at all surprised to see Cas waiting on the other side when he opened it. “Trouble sleeping?”

Cas nodded. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” he asked.

“No,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I couldn’t sleep either.” He took note that the nagging in his core was gone. “Do you want to come in?” he offered, stepping to one side in invitation.

Cas nodded, his face unreadable as he stepped inside.

“What’s on your mind?” Dean asked as he closed the door and made his way back to the bed. He was suddenly aware that he was only wearing a t-shirt and boxers, but he decided he didn’t care. He sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him.

“Just a couple things,” Cas replied as he sank onto the bed beside Dean. “For one, finals start next week.”

“I might’ve only known you for a couple months, but those don’t seem like they’ll be a problem for you,” Dean interjected.

“Probably not,” Cas agreed with a small smile.

“What else?” Dean asked.

“I felt like something was trying to pull me to you,” Cas said. He looked down at his hands.

“I did too. Like at the concert. But now you’re here, and that’s gone.” Dean leaned down to try to catch Cas’ eye, and he felt his lips stretch into a grin when Cas glanced up at him. “Anything else?”

“What Gabriel said. About Balthazar,” Cas said, as if he were reluctant to give voice to what was bothering him. He looked away again.

“What about him?” Dean’s face fell at Cas’ tone.

“I hadn’t seen him in years,” Cas started. “He traveled a lot right after graduation, so I thought it was just the way he was, to not visit too much.” Cas hesitated. He hadn’t even really thought about how long it had been since he’d seen Balthazar until Gabriel had brought it up. “But Gabriel’s seen him, even with how much he was traveling.”

“But you heard him; Gabriel went to where Balthazar was,” Dean offered. “That could be part of it.”

Cas turned that thought over, but it still didn’t line up like he wanted it to. “But we don’t talk that often. We used to be close – the three of us did. And I still talk to Gabriel. A lot.” Cas stopped again.

Dean wasn’t sure whether Cas was trying to come up with something else to say, or if he was done talking altogether, but when the silence had dragged on a little too long, he said, “Well, I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t want to talk to you.” He slowly draped his arm across Cas’ shoulders, and when Cas didn’t protest, he held him a little closer; Dean didn’t think he was very good at comforting people, but he felt the need to cheer Cas up.

Cas chuckled quietly, though it didn’t sound like a particularly happy sound. “Thank you Dean,” he said, going quiet again for a moment. “I think the last time I really spoke to Balthazar was the day before Gabriel left for school,” he said sadly.

“Why’s that?”

“I don't know,” Cas said with a sigh, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Even after the accident, we saw each other a lot. But I don't know. Balthazar... He was different, after what happened.”

“What _did_ happen?” Dean asked gently. “I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

“We were hit going through an intersection,” Cas explained. “Balthazar was driving, and he and Gabriel had pretty minor injuries. I broke my leg and tore my arm open,” he added, lifting up his right sleeve.

Dean had to lean back to see what Cas was trying to show him, since Cas’ right arm was against him; he noticed a pink scar running up Cas’ bicep.

“And I hit my head pretty hard,” Cas continued, rolling his sleeve back down. “I was in bad shape for a while. It took a while for Balthazar and Gabriel to stop treating me like I was going to fall apart.”

“Do you think... Do you think Balthazar distancing himself might have something to do with how you were hurt?” Dean asked.

“I hope not,” Cas said, furrowing his brow at Dean. “It wasn’t his fault.”

Dean nodded. “There isn’t much you can do for the way other people think,” he said, rubbing Cas’ shoulder unconsciously.

“Is something bothering you?” Cas asked, picking up on something in Dean’s voice.

Dean thought for a moment, trying to piece together a way to say it. “Did I do something to upset you?” he finally asked.

“No,” Cas replied, almost instantly. “What makes you think that?”

“Something Gabriel said,” Dean said with a shrug. “He said he’d heard a lot about me, but he didn’t respond when I asked if he’d heard good things.”

“Oh,” Cas said, immediately able to guess what Gabriel might have meant. “I think I know what that’s about.” Cas felt Dean’s eyes on him as he gathered his thoughts. “Before you came over last time, I ran into Gabriel. We talked a little bit, and I mentioned I had met you. Apparently I didn’t sound too excited.”

“What was wrong?” Dean asked cautiously.

“I mentioned that you had said you’d been with someone else,” Cas admitted. “I just needed to talk it out,” he added quickly.

“I get that,” Dean said. He hesitated for a moment before he asked, “Does it still bother you?”

“Does what still bother me?”

“That I was with someone else,” Dean said, searching Cas’ face for some kind of answer.

Cas was quiet for a long time before he answered. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “It’s not something I ever thought I would have to consider.”

“It’s not like the stories you hear,” Dean agreed. He realized he still had his arm draped across Cas’ shoulders, and he started to shift to let his arm drop; before he could, Cas leaned his head against Dean’s shoulder, effectively halting any motion Dean might have been considering.

“I’m glad you’re here, anyway,” Cas said sleepily, his eyelids drooping.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, me too Cas,” he said. A beat passed in silence, and Dean could feel Cas relaxing against him. “Cas, we should probably try to get some sleep.” Even as he said it, Dean tried not to think of how _little_ sleep he was actually going to get.

“Probably,” Cas said, though he gave no indication that he planned on moving.

Dean rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile on his face. “Would it make it easier to sleep if you stayed in here with me?” he asked. As soon as he asked, he knew that he’d sleep better with Cas beside him and without the persistent pull in his core. He just hoped Cas felt the same way.

“I think it would,” Cas replied, though he still didn’t move much.

“You know you have to move for that to happen, right?”

Cas smiled. “I suppose,” he said, shifting so he could lie down. He felt Dean’s eyes on him as he made himself comfortable. When he was situated, he tugged on Dean’s sleeve to get him to lie beside him.

“You’re dad’s not gonna mind this?” Dean asked as he crawled under the covers.

“I’m twenty-one,” Cas said matter-of-factly. “He’ll get over it.”

Dean huffed a laugh and closed his eyes. “Yeah, I guess,” he said. He would have been content to just know that Cas was beside him, but Cas seemed to have other plans; he rolled onto his side and scooted closer to Dean, ending up with his head pillowed on Dean’s shoulder. After only a moment’s hesitation, Dean turned slightly so he could wrap his arms around Cas.

“How old are you?” Cas asked quietly.

Dean furrowed his brow. “I’m twenty-one,” he said. “My birthday was in January. Why?”

“January, I’ll remember that,” Cas said. “I was just curious.”

Cas was asleep in seconds. So was Dean’s arm. Dean shifted as carefully as he could to avoid jostling Cas. When he finally found a comfortable position, he noticed Cas was still wearing his hearing aids. With a sigh and a small smile, Dean gently removed the aids and reached over Cas so he could set them on the bedside table. “Goodnight Cas,” he whispered when he settled back into his spot.

*~*~*~*~*

Cas woke up to an empty bed, and it took his brain a second to remember why that was significant information. The empty spot beside him was still warm, and the realization made Cas sit up and glance around the room for Dean. It was still dark, and Cas was suddenly aware that the silence he heard wasn’t the normal kind, and he searched the covers for his hearing aids before he found them on the bedside table.

“Oh good. You’re awake,” said a quiet voice from the door.

Cas had half a second to register that it was Dean who had spoken before the lights were switched on and he was blinking his vision into focus.

“Sorry. I should’ve warned you,” Dean said sheepishly, stuffing something into his duffle bag. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

Cas shook his head. “I can’t hear alarms,” he said.

Dean paused and glanced up at Cas, his brow furrowed. “How do you wake up on time?”

“My alarm turns the lights on,” Cas replied with a shrug. "It's wired to the lamp on my bedside table, so when it goes off the lamp flickers and comes on."

Dean made an impressed noise and finished zipping his bag. He patted his pockets to make sure he had everything he needed.

“Do you want breakfast before you leave?” Cas asked, shoving the covers back and standing.

“Sure,” Dean said. “I need to call a cab anyway.”

Cas furrowed his brow and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “You didn’t drive here?”

Dean shook his head. “I caught a flight in and your dad gave me a ride from the airport.”

“Then I’ll drive you back,” Cas said. It wasn’t a suggestion. “It’s too early in the morning to get a decent taxi.”

“Whatever works,” Dean said with a shrug as he followed Cas into the kitchen. He wasn’t going to complain about being able to see Cas for an extra hour or so.

They ate hurriedly, and when they were finished Cas changed as quickly as he could before scribbling a note to leave on the counter to let his dad know he hadn’t just vanished.

“Why do you need to leave so early?” Cas asked as they made their way to the airport.

“We have a concert tonight,” Dean replied. “Luckily it’s a couple time zones behind us, so there shouldn’t be any issues with time. Hopefully.”

“You didn’t need to come,” Cas said. “I would understand.”

“I know you would. But it was your birthday.”

The drive to the airport was over before Cas was ready to let Dean leave. He stepped out of the car when Dean did to say his farewell.

“How long are you going to be on tour?” Cas asked. He’d lost count of how many times he’d asked that question over the last two months.

“Not much longer,” Dean answered as he slung the strap of his duffel across his shoulder. “We have a bit of a break after this show, and then just a couple more.”

There was an awkward pause before Cas stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Dean, effectively breaking the tension between them. Dean seemed to melt against him, and Cas felt himself smile as he nuzzled into the crook of Dean’s neck. “Let me know when you land,” he said quietly.

“You bet,” Dean replied. He pulled back slightly, far enough that he could look Cas in the eye, but still close enough to keep a hand on him. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Cas’ grip on Dean’s arm tightened when Dean went to pull away. “You’re leaving without a kiss?” he asked. He didn’t think to be embarrassed; he’d expected Dean to want to kiss him before heading off.

“I didn’t want to overstep,” Dean said, but he shifted and took a step closer to Cas.

“You just had to ask,” Cas said. His hands moved up Dean’s arms almost of their own accord, and he could feel his heart thumping in his chest.

Dean smiled, and his eyes flicked between Cas’ mouth and his eyes. He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. “In that case, can I kiss you?”

“Yes you can,” Cas said. Before he knew it, Dean’s lips were on his, and his eyes were closing. He tightened his grip on Dean’s arms and Dean responded by stepping closer until their chests were pressed together. Cas thought he could stand there forever, but Dean pulled away what seemed like seconds later.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” Dean said again, untangling himself from Cas’ arms. He pressed another kiss to Cas’ temple before he turned and made his way into the building.

Cas was rooted to the spot for several seconds. It wasn’t until Dean turned to glance at him from the door that he finally snapped out of his trance. He waved to Dean, who just grinned at him, and took a deep breath before he climbed back into the car to head home.


	22. Chapter 22

“I don’t know,” Cas said into the receiver. He was splitting his attention between the phone call and going over his notes for his first exam the next day.

“Oh, come on,” Dean said. He was lounging on his bed at his parents’ house in Lawrence. He’d been home for exactly three seconds when he decided he needed to invite Cas to spend the tour hiatus with him. “Let me know when your last exam is, and I’ll get you a flight out here. You don’t even have to stay the full two weeks if you don’t want to.”

Admittedly, there wasn’t much Cas wanted more than to have two uninterrupted weeks with Dean. “I can’t ask you to spend that money on me,” he said, though he knew it was a weak excuse.

“You aren’t asking,” Dean pointed out. “I want you here. If you want to be here, I’ll make it happen.”

Cas smiled down at his notebook. “Okay,” he said. “My last exam is Friday morning.”

*~*~*~*~*

The only problem Cas had with the flight to Kansas was that he was in a different time zone when he landed. It was confusing at first to see the clock on the wall of the airport showing a time that was an hour earlier than the time on his phone.

 ** _Plane landed safely in Lawrence_** , Cas typed to his dad while he followed the crowd to baggage claim.

It wasn’t hard for Cas to find Dean after picking up his suitcase from baggage claim, partly because there were quite a few people stopped around him. Cas smiled to himself as he approached the small crowd. Dean was so engrossed in talking to the fans around him that he didn’t spot Cas until Cas was standing only a few feet ahead of him. When Cas managed to catch Dean’s eye, he noticed Dean’s smile shift from his polite on-stage smile to the one that made his whole face light up. The sight served only to widen Cas’ own smile.

“It’s been fun guys,” Dean said to the gathering of people around him. “But I need to get a friend of mine home.”

There were a few groans from the crowd, but they dispersed, some of them glancing back at Cas as if trying to decipher who he might be.

“Friend?” Cas asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re my friend too, aren’t you?” Dean asked, throwing one arm around Cas so he could steer him toward the exit. “I guess the flight was alright.”

“That’s what I assume,” Cas replied. “I slept through most of it. I’ve been up since six this morning.”

Dean made a face at that. “Never liked exams.”

Cas just shrugged.

“I’ll load that for you,” Dean said, holding out his hand to take Cas’ suitcase when they reached the car.

Cas handed over the bag and slid into the passenger seat. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a car that was so meticulously maintained. He also wasn’t sure of the last time he’d seen a case of cassette tapes on the middle seat.

“Don’t make faces at my baby,” Dean said as he slid behind the steering wheel.

“I’m not making faces,” Cas protested, immediately taking stock of what his facial features were doing. “Your baby?”

Dean smirked at him as he turned the key in the ignition. “The Impala is my baby,” he said as he pulled out of the parking lot. “She was my dad’s, and now she’s mine.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Cas said, turning his attention to the cassettes beside him. He wasn’t familiar with all the bands, and said as much to Dean.

“Then you are missing out,” Dean said. He glanced at the tapes and chose one almost without thinking. “Put this one in.”

Cas obliged, and for a few minutes they sat listening to the music.

When they reached a more residential street, Dean turned the music down. “So Sammy’s home for the summer,” he started.

“Good, I’ve wanted to meet him,” Cas said, turning to give Dean his full attention.

“He’s pestered me about meeting you too,” Dean said. “But if he’s home, there isn’t an extra room. I didn’t think it would be a problem if you stayed with me, but I figured I should double check if that’s alright with you.” He turned to glance at Cas for a moment before returning his attention to the road.

Cas’ mind flew back to the week before. “I don’t mind,” he said with a small smile.

“Other than that, there isn’t much to know,” Dean said as he pulled into the driveway of a white two-story house. “Except for the fact that my mom makes the best pies you’ve ever tasted in your life.”

*~*~*~*~*

Mary Winchester did indeed make excellent pies. She was also very good at keeping conversation from lagging, and Cas was grateful for that.

As far as first impressions went, Cas quite liked Dean’s family. They spoke easily with each other, and it didn’t take long for them to include Cas. Occasionally they mentioned someone or somewhere Cas wasn’t familiar with, and it was usually Dean who explained to him what was going on in the conversation. Of course, there were several questions about where Cas went to school and what he was studying; not that he minded.

The first few days of his visit, Cas and Dean didn’t spend much time around the house. Mostly they wandered around the city, visiting with Dean’s old friends or just walking and talking.

It was on the third day of Cas’ visit that he was formally introduced to the rest of the band.

“It’s nice to meet you with context,” Aaron said when they were introduced. They were sitting around in Dean’s garage, though the instruments they used to practice on were nowhere in sight.

“Dean doesn’t shut up about you,” Jo added.

“It’s not like Aaron’s any better about _his_ soulmate,” Dean grumbled.

Cas smiled and rubbed a hand over Dean’s back. “All good, I hope,” Cas said, making a smile tug at the corners of Dean’s mouth.

“Far as I can tell,” Benny said with a shrug. “Dean doesn’t talk bad about many people.”

“I believe that,” Cas said, looking over at Dean with a fond smile.

“Ugh, get a room,” Jo said, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, play nice Jo,” Aaron said as he stood. “It was nice to meet you Cas, but I have my own plans for my time off.”

“It was nice to meet you too,” Cas said.

It wasn’t long until the others needed to get to their own plans and Cas and Dean ended up on the sofa watching an old western that happened to be on. “Is there anything you wanted to do tomorrow?” Dean asked.

Cas shrugged. “Not in particular,” he replied.

“Then I’m sleeping in,” Dean said decidedly.

“Sounds good to me,” Cas said, leaning against Dean and making himself comfortable.

*~*~*~*~*

When Dean woke up the next morning, he found Cas sitting up beside him, his nose buried in a book.

“You read on vacation?” Dean asked, looking up at Cas from where he was lying. When Cas didn’t answer, Dean poked his leg, which made Cas jump slightly and look down at him.

“Good morning,” Cas said, reaching over Dean toward the bedside table to retrieve his hearing aids. “Did you say something?”

“I asked if you read on vacation,” Dean repeated when he was sure Cas could hear him again.

“Sometimes,” Cas said. “I didn’t want to leave you in here by yourself.”

Dean smiled at that and sat up. “Where is everyone?” he asked, noticing the silence from the other side of the door; usually by the time he woke up, someone had the TV on or was making lunch or was generally making their fair share of noise.

“Your dad’s at work, Sam went to a friend’s house, and your mother said she was going to brunch before running errands,” Cas explained.

Dean tried to ignore the fact that he and Cas had the house to themselves. “Then I think it’s time for breakfast,” he said in lieu of mentioning it. “You want anything?”

“I could eat,” Cas said as he marked his place and followed Dean to the kitchen.

They didn’t say much through their meal, which in truth was closer to lunch than breakfast, and when everything was cleared away, Cas asked, “What’s the plan for today?”

Dean shrugged. “We don’t have to do anything,” he said. “We’ve done a lot the last couple of days.”

“Is that your way of saying you’d like to go back to sleep?” Cas asked.

It took Dean a moment to realize that Cas was joking, and he snorted in response. “If you’re cool with me taking a nap, then I’ll go back to sleep.”

“I don’t mind,” Cas replied with a smile. “I can read my book.”

Dean tried not to think of how not-tired he was when he climbed back into bed. Cas was sitting beside him, content to read his book. While Cas was reading and not paying attention, Dean found himself watching his soulmate just because he could.

“Cas?” he finally asked, when the sound of pages turning had driven him half out of his mind.

“Hmm?” Cas said. When Dean didn’t elaborate, Cas marked his place and glanced down at the man beside him. “What is it?”

Dean propped himself up on his elbows, remembering Cas’ words from a week before, ‘ _you just had to ask_.’ “Can I kiss you?”

Cas had thought something was wrong, and so the first thing that popped into his head was, “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” Dean repeated, starting to feel like he _had_ overstepped, after all. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to,” Cas assured him, shifting so he was facing Dean more fully.

Dean felt relief wash over him as he pushed himself up and pressed his lips to Cas’, chaste at first, but after a moment he couldn’t stop himself from pressing closer and moving his mouth against Cas’.

Cas didn’t know what he had expected, but he could safely say that he was pleasantly surprised. This wasn’t a farewell in the cool pre-dawn hours outside an airport, this was private and warm and a thousand different things. And when Dean’s hand came up to cradle the side of his face, Cas found himself completely forgetting about everything else.

“You can tell me to stop,” Dean breathed against Cas’ mouth. He hoped against hope that Cas wouldn’t ask him to stop.

In response, Cas’ hand found its way to the back of Dean’s neck to hold him closer, eliciting a sigh from Dean, who shifted so he was sitting beside Cas and could get an arm around him.

Cas could feel Dean pulling him closer, and he melted against him. When he felt Dean’s teeth tug at his bottom lip, he pressed closer, completely compliant under Dean’s touch. It seemed Dean knew just what to do to take him apart, and the thought gave him pause. The hand that had been at the back of Dean’s neck found its way between them, and Cas pressed the flat of his palm against Dean’s collar bone.

Dean backed off immediately, pulling away so he could look Cas in the eye, his hand dropping from Cas’ cheek in the process. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You’ve done this before,” Cas said, suddenly landing on what had been nagging at him since their lunch date two months prior.

“Yes,” Dean said, brow furrowed. He studied Cas’ face for a moment. “That bothers you,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Cas looked away, dropping his hands. Dean followed suit. “I haven’t done any of it before,” he said quietly. “It’s new for me, but not for you.” He knew it was selfish and stupid, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d missed out on something, on his _soulmate_ , who he’d always been told was the only one for him.

Dean licked his lips, trying to piece together something to say. He had to fix this. “What I’ve done with other people,” he started, “it doesn’t matter. _This_ is new.” Cas glanced back up at him with wide eyes, and Dean felt that expression pull at his heart. “I’m here with you, and being with you is new to me too, no matter how many other people I’ve been with.”

Cas took a deep breath and looked away again. Dean had a point, of course, but he needed a minute to rethink things.

“If it means anything,” Dean said cautiously. “I’m here with you, and I’m not going anywhere. As long as you’ll have me.”

“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” Cas said, leaning against Dean again. He closed his eyes and nuzzled into Dean’s neck when he felt Dean’s arms tentatively wrap around him again.

“I’m right here,” Dean whispered, and he pressed a kiss to the top of Cas’ head.

*~*~*~*~*

The rest of Cas’ stay in Lawrence flew by in a whirlwind of movie marathons, days spent exploring, and goodnight kisses. The more time he spent with Dean, the more comfortable Cas became with the reality of having Dean as his soulmate. Thoughts of Dean’s previous relationships started to bother Cas less and less as the days went by and he was able to see just how completely Dean attended to those close to him.

By the time his last day rolled around, Cas had grown accustomed to his routine with Dean, and the thought of going back to being hundreds and thousands of miles apart clouded his mood.

“I have something I think will make you feel better,” Dean said the day before Cas’ flight was scheduled to leave.

“What’s that?” Cas asked. They were sitting on the couch, Cas reading a book against the armrest while Dean leaned against him playing video games.

Dean paused his game and sat up. “It’s a surprise,” he said, grinning when Cas gave him a skeptical look. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Cas decided it’d be better to go along with whatever Dean had planned. And that was how, that evening, he found himself dressed in a blue button-down shirt and dark jeans, seated at a restaurant far nicer than any he’d visited before.

“I feel underdressed,” Cas said, squirming slightly behind his menu.

“You look great,” Dean assured him.

“You didn’t need to do this,” Cas pointed out.

“No, but it’s your last night. I figured I’d give you a good sendoff,” Dean said, smiling at Cas as the waiter set their drinks on the table.

Cas had to admit that after they’d finished their meals, his mood had lifted considerably. “You were right,” he admitted on the walk back to the car. “I do feel better.”

“Good, but we’re not done yet,” Dean said, holding Cas’ door open for him.

“What do you mean?” Cas asked, his heart flipping over in his chest.

“Can I leave it a surprise?” Dean asked hopefully.

Cas weighed his options. He didn’t know whether he was comfortable with what Dean might have been suggesting, but he did know that he trusted Dean. “Okay,” he said as he took his seat in the Impala.

Dean drove them outside the city, down winding roads. He was watching road signs, as if looking for somewhere specific.

“You aren’t going to kill me and dump my body in the woods, are you?” Cas joked, trying to ease the tension he felt building in his gut.

“Nothing like that,” Dean promised, finally taking a turn down a dirt road that didn’t look like it saw much use.

Cas looked around out the window as Dean pulled over; it didn’t look to him like there was anything in any direction for at least a few miles. He jumped when he heard Dean open his door and step out, and after a moment’s hesitation, Cas followed suit. “What are we doing?” he asked uncertainly.

“Stargazing,” Dean replied, taking a seat on the Impala’s hood.

Cas looked up at the sky for the first time since they’d parked and was immediately stunned by the number of stars he could see; he’d never seen this many where he lived. He was so focused on the stars that he startled when Dean tugged on his sleeve. “Come on,” Dean said gently, leading Cas to the front of the car and retaking his seat.

Cas was quick to take his seat next to Dean so he could study the sky. With all the unfamiliar stars above him, he had trouble locating the constellations he knew.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Dean asked quietly. He looked over at Cas to see him staring upwards, mesmerized.

“You’re staring at me,” Cas observed a few minutes later, which Dean thought was impressive because Cas hadn’t looked away from the stars since he sat down.

“Would you rather I didn’t?” Dean challenged, not looking away from Cas’ face.

“I’d rather you kissed me,” Cas said simply, still not looking anywhere but up.

Dean really didn’t see a point in arguing; he slid closer to Cas so their thighs were touching and wrapped his arms around Cas’ shoulders. When Cas still didn’t look down at him, Dean pressed a kiss to Cas’ neck, and was satisfied to hear a surprised intake of breath. When there was no protest, Dean started trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down Cas’ skin.

Cas had been expecting a kiss on the cheek, but he wasn’t about to let Dean know that. “This isn’t stargazing, Dean,” he said when he could get his thoughts into some kind of order, and immediately regretted it when Dean pulled his mouth away.

“My bad,” Dean breathed, his mouth right over Cas’ ear. He wasn’t in the mood for stargazing anymore, and so he remained still with his arms wrapped around Cas and his face nuzzled against Cas’ neck.

“Dean.”

“Cas.” Dean turned his face up to find Cas’ head tilted toward him. “Can I help you?” he teased.

“I want to kiss you,” Cas said matter-of-factly.

Dean grinned at that and tilted his face up in invitation, and he was surprised when Cas kissed him forcefully, almost hungrily. He felt one of Cas’ arms around his waist and the other pressed into his back.

Cas loved the feeling of having Dean pressed against him. He loved how Dean’s mouth moved with his. He loved how Dean seemed to melt against him, and, remembering just a few moments before, he started trailing kisses across Dean’s jaw and down his neck.

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean breathed, his forehead resting against Cas’ shoulder, the rest of his body relaxed against Cas.

Cas paused. “Do you want me to stop?”

Dean almost responded with a resounding ‘hell _no_ ,’ but since he now had a moment to think, he noticed how uncomfortable he was sitting on the hood of the car, not quite facing Cas fully. “We could move somewhere more comfortable,” he suggested, trying to keep his tone nonchalant. “Either the backseat or back at my room.”

For a moment Cas was still, and Dean worried he’s said something wrong. Then Cas gently disentangled himself and slid down off the car. “Let’s go,” he said simply.

Dean drove back with his hand in Cas’. He couldn’t read Cas’ expression, and it terrified him.

It was late when they got in, and in trying to keep quiet, Dean was afraid he was going to wake his parents up; there was no way his footsteps were always this loud. Ditto for his bedroom door.

Suddenly the air in the bedroom felt heavier, but Dean was sure that was just him. He turned to Cas and took his hand uncertainly. “Where were we?” he asked.

A thoughtful look crossed Cas’ face, his head tilted to one side. “I believe I was here,” he said, stepping into the space that separated him from Dean. He wrapped his arms around Dean and pressed his mouth to Dean’s neck.

“I think that’s right,” Dean whispered, and he felt Cas’ smile against his skin. And when Cas pressed closer, Dean stepped back, until his calves hit the bed and he was forced to sit down. Cas moved to sit beside him, and he chuckled. “I’m pretty sure this is exactly like before,” he commented, now once again turned uncomfortably.

Cas smiled against Dean and pulled back so he could rearrange himself. He ended up reclining against the headboard, and he beckoned Dean over. His intention was for Dean to lie beside him, but instead Dean crawled up into his lap with a curious look, as if to make sure Cas was okay with the arrangement. Cas decided he liked seeing Dean above him, and he felt himself smile as he cupped the back of Dean’s neck in his hand and pulled him down into a kiss.

*~*~*~*~*

Cas woke up to sunlight streaming into the room. He was on his side, with an arm draped over Dean’s bare side. He was suddenly aware of a chill on his own exposed back, and he groaned to himself as he scooted closer to Dean and reclaimed the part of the comforter that Dean seemed to have stolen from him at some point in the night. “Blanket hog,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Dean asked, his voice thick from sleep. He turned slightly so he could see Cas’ face. Cas gave him a confused look and rolled over for a moment, grabbing his hearing aids from where they were resting beside the alarm clock before retaking his spot and asking Dean to repeat himself. “I asked what it was you said to me,” Dean repeated.

“Don’t worry about it,” Cas said, nuzzling into Dean’s neck with a smile.

Dean sighed and shifted so he was facing Cas, and he smiled when Cas burrowed even closer against him. “You know we have to get out of bed to get you to the airport in,” Dean paused, momentarily propping himself up on his elbow so he could see the clock on the bedside table beside Cas. “We have to leave in an hour and a half.”

“Don’t remind me,” Cas groaned as he pulled Dean closer.

“I’ll call you every day,” Dean promised.

“You already call me every day,” Cas pointed out.

Dean shrugged. “I know,” he said. “And as soon as this tour is over, I’m going to be around so much that you’ll be sick of seeing me.”

“Not possible,” Cas said firmly.

With anyone else, Dean probably would have rolled his eyes, but he had a feeling Cas meant it.


	23. Chapter 23

Dean made sure to keep his promise to call Cas every day, though, as Cas had pointed out, they already spoke every day, even if it was just to check in for the day. The thought didn’t deter Dean, who pointed out several times that, “I promised you I’d call, didn’t I?”

“Yes you did,” Cas would reply. “I’m sorry for ever doubting you.”

“You’re such a sap,” Jo said one day in the green room, shoving Dean’s shoulder playfully after he got off the phone with Cas.

Dean rolled his eyes at her. “Sue me.”

“No, it’s sweet,” Jo said, smiling at him. “I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean said, ducking his head, embarrassed. “I’ll be happier when this show is over and I can get my ass back to Connecticut.”

Jo blinked at him. “You aren’t going back to Lawrence?”

“Not at first,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I’ll be back there in a couple weeks though. Are you?”

“Yeah, I need to get started on summer classes.”

“She’ll be in class with me,” Aaron chimed in with a lopsided grin. “I can always help you if you need it Jo.”

“Like hell,” Jo shot back. “If I need help, I’m asking Rebecca. She’s the one who helps you and we all know it.”

“Fair enough,” Aaron said, his expression softening at the mention of his soulmate.

“What about you Benny?” Dean asked.

Benny shrugged. “I’m headin’ down to Louisiana, spend time with my family. It’ll be nice to get away from the crowds and attention.”

“Peace and quiet sound nice,” Dean agreed.

*~*~*~*~*

After the show, all Dean really wanted to do was go to sleep; he had to catch his flight in the morning, and the sooner he got to sleep, the sooner he could wake up and get on his way.

However, events seemed to be working against him, as there was a group of four people coming backstage after the show. He made a run to the bathroom to splash water on his face to make sure he still looked awake enough for this.

By the time he made it back on stage, the group had already arrived.

“Started without me?” he asked as he approached, shifting his features to a friendly smile.

“That’s what happens when you show up late,” Jo teased.

Dean rolled his eyes and greeted the group properly.

“You might want to take a look at this, chief,” Benny said, a smirk on his face. He was holding out a rolled up magazine, and Dean eyed it suspiciously.

“We saw it a couple weeks ago,” one of the girls quickly explained. “We were curious.”

Dean took the magazine cautiously, trying to ignore the looks the others were giving him. He was almost afraid to see what was on it, but he unrolled it all the same, figuring it’d be better to just rip the band-aid off. He’d been expecting something bad, but the cover story didn’t even seem that interesting. He quickly scanned the other headlines and noticed a picture that was clearly from when he had picked Cas up at the airport; the picture wasn’t very good, considering the sheer number of people who had been around, but it was clear that the picture was of Dean Winchester with his arm around Cas, with the title below it asking about Dean’s relationship status. He was suddenly reminded why he liked to stay away from looking at the tabloids.

Dean pursed his lips, as his thoughts raced to find a response. “That’s definitely me,” he finally said.

“Who’s the other guy?” one of the group members asked warily.

“My soulmate,” Dean said simply, handing the magazine back, not seeing any point in denying it. He was suddenly very glad no one had been around with a camera when Cas had dropped him off at the airport in Connecticut. That would have been embarrassing. “His name’s Cas.” Already he could see the headlines, and he was more than glad the tour was over.

The rest of the night, Dean refused to answer any questions about Cas; that wasn’t why the fans were back there, and besides, he didn’t want the extra attention anyway.

*~*~*~*~*

“I hope you’re ready to be famous,” Dean said as he approached Cas the next day at the curb outside baggage claim.

“Famous?” Cas asked, confused, as he was wrapped in a bear hug.

“Someone got a picture of us at the airport, it was in the tabloids,” Dean said as he pulled back. “The airport in Lawrence,” he clarified. “Not here.”

Cas shrugged. “I suppose it was going to happen at some point,” he said simply.

Dean grinned at him. “I guess,” he said. He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. “We might want to get out of here though. Someone else might have a camera, and then we’ll be fighting them off my whole time here.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Cas said with a smile, taking Dean’s bag and packing it in the trunk. “I thought you stayed away from magazines like that,” he commented as he opened his door.

“I do,” Dean agreed, sliding into the passenger seat. “We had people come backstage yesterday and one of them brought the magazine with them.”

“That’s weird,” Cas said, tilting his head to the side as he pulled out into traffic.

“It wasn’t that big a deal,” Dean said with a shrug. “So what’s the plan for my stay here?”

“Whatever you want,” Cas said. “Dad’s on a deadline though, so we need to keep it down while he’s writing.”

“Consider it done,” Dean said.

Cas’ room looked different than the last time Dean saw it. The last time he’d been there, the bed had been unmade and the desk had been cluttered with notebooks and textbooks. Now, the room barely looked lived in, with the bed precisely made and the books neatly stacked on the desk or the shelves along one wall, and the hamper was no longer overflowing.

“You’ve cleaned up since last time,” Dean observed, setting his bag down on the foot of the bed.

“I’m not buried by school work,” Cas retorted. He crossed to his chest of drawers and rummaged in the top drawer for a moment before he pulled something out and tossed it to Dean.

Dean caught the bundle easily, looking down to find the pair of gloves he’d forgotten months before.

“I’m sorry I’ve been forgetting about them,” Cas said. “They’ve been in that drawer since I found them.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean replied, waving off Cas’ concern and dropping the gloves on the bed beside his bag. “Haven’t needed gloves in a while.”

“I guess not,” Cas said with a slight smile. “You want lunch? I can make something.”

“That won’t bother your dad?”

“Not if we keep quiet,” Cas said. “Or we can go out somewhere, if you’d prefer.”

“The diner we went to last time?” Dean suggested. “I promise no awkward confessions this time.”

Cas chuckled at that. “Sure,” he agreed. “You aren’t afraid of someone taking our picture?”

Dean shook his head, stepping to fill the space between them and wrapping his arms around Cas’ waist. He smiled when Cas’ arms wound around his torso. “Let them,” he said.

*~*~*~*~*

The first few days of Dean’s visit were relatively uneventful. Cas showed him around New Haven, and even walked him through the Yale campus. Dean was impressed, and said as much, causing Cas to proudly flash him a gummy smile.

Cas started teaching Dean sign language in earnest, using it more frequently when he spoke. He took Dean to lunch to meet a few of the friends he had made through his ASL classes, and though Dean only knew a few signs, he tried doggedly to communicate on his own before he asked Cas to translate the conversation for him.

“Eventually I’m going to be fluent,” Dean declared as they were leaving.

Cas smiled and took Dean’s hand as they started down the block. “You might need to be,” he said softly.

Dean looked over at Cas and squeezed his hand. “I will,” he promised. “Then you’ll have to put up with what I say even when you aren’t wearing your hearing aids.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I’m not putting up with you Dean,” he said. “I do genuinely like you.”

“Well that’s good to know,” Dean said, grinning as he bumped against Cas’ shoulder affectionately. “I like you too.”

Cas smirked at him. “Dean Winchester has a crush on me,” he teased.

It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes, but he couldn’t seem to get the smile off his face so he could look suitably annoyed. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. Then he remembered something, and his brow creased. “Do you have a crush on me? You weren’t sure last time.”

Cas thought for a moment. “I think I do,” he finally decided. “But not in a sexual way.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, the confused look on his face only deepening.

“I mean I like being near you. I like kissing you,” Cas said, tugging on Dean’s hand to pull him closer. “I _want_ those things. But when it comes to anything sexual,” he shrugged, “I don’t know. I could take it or leave it, I guess.”

“Oh,” Dean said, not sure how to respond to that. “So, when we were in Lawrence…?”

“I wanted to sleep with you,” Cas assured him, releasing his hand so he could wrap an arm around Dean’s waist. He smiled when Dean rested his head on his shoulder for a moment. “I enjoyed it, but I think it was because I knew you enjoyed it. I wouldn’t have been heartbroken if you had asked me to stop. I just wanted you to be happy.”

“As long as you’re doing anything because you want to,” Dean said. “Don’t do anything just to put up with me.”

Cas shook his head. “I’m not putting up with you,” he repeated. Then his mouth turned up in a playful smile. “All I have to put up with is your singing, whether my ears can hear you or not.”

“You don’t like my singing?” Dean asked, feigning offense.

“No I do,” Cas replied. “The colors are still weird though.”

Dean nodded. “What’s weird is that you see them too.”

“Only from you,” Cas pointed out.

They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. It was a nice day out, and the pleasant weather leant itself to being outside and quietly enjoying the day.

“What color do you see when I speak?” Cas asked as they turned down his street.

“Blue,” Dean said, almost without thinking. “It’s a dark blue, usually.”

“Usually?”

“You don’t always talk in the same tone,” Dean pointed out. “It changes. But I don’t see colors with your voice in my head.”

Cas pursed his lips, puzzled. “Interesting,” he said. “I wonder why.”

Dean just shrugged as Cas unlocked the door and pushed his way inside. “Hell if I know.”

*~*~*~*~*

On one of Dean’s last days, he and Cas were sitting on the sofa watching TV. It was raining, and Chuck had gone to the library to look up one form of mythology or another for his new book. The rain was beating on the window panes, and there was an occasional boom of thunder in the distance. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt the kind of peace and calm he felt at that moment, snuggled up next to Cas under a blanket and munching on popcorn.

Dean sighed and burrowed closer to Cas, who responded by shifting and throwing an arm across Dean’s shoulders. Dean smiled and felt his eyelids droop. “I love you, Cas,” he said, not registering that he had meant to say it until the words had already left his mouth. He glanced up at Cas, and found soft blue eyes staring down at him.

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas replied, his voice quiet.

Dean smiled. “Would you kiss me?”

Cas nodded, leaning down and pressing his lips to Dean’s, soft and warm, for just a moment before pulling away with a sigh.

Dean nuzzled into the crook of Cas’ neck and sighed contentedly. He was asleep in moments.


	24. Chapter 24

Cas was waiting where he said he’d meet up with everyone, smiling at his friends as they walked by him, diplomas in hand. Most of them were laughing and shouting, finding their friends and family in the crowd. Quite a few of them were missing their caps, having thrown them at the end of the ceremony and not bothered to put them back on.

“Cas!”

Cas turned at the sound of his name to find Charlie approaching him, her arms outstretched. He smiled at her and hugged her when she was close enough.

“We did it!” she squealed excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she pulled back. Dorothy was pushing through the crowd around them, and smiled when she finally spotted them.

“Yeah, we did it,” Cas said, laughing at Charlie’s enthusiasm. “Hi Dorothy,” he greeted when Dorothy had finally fought her way over to them.

“Hey Cas,” she said, throwing her arm across Charlie’s shoulders. “A bunch of us are going out tonight to celebrate. You want to join us?”

“He can’t, remember?” Charlie interjected before Cas could answer, bumping her shoulder against Dorothy’s side. “Dean’s in town.”

“Oh that’s right,” Dorothy said, shaking her head at herself. “My bad.”

Cas furrowed his brow at them, detecting some kind of difference in how they talked about Dean that he couldn’t quite place. “Am I missing something?” he asked, glancing between the two of them.

“No, I don’t think so,” Charlie said, maybe a little too quickly.

“There he is!”

Cas turned at the sound of his father’s voice and smiled at the group approaching him. Chuck and Hannah hugged him at the same time, and Cas couldn’t help laughing at them.

“Oh hush,” Hannah said, smacking the back of his head playfully. “We’re proud of you.”

“I know,” Cas said, hugging them tighter for a moment.

“Now let me get a picture,” Chuck said when he pulled back, pulling his camera from his jacket pocket.

“ _A_ picture?” Cas asked skeptically.

“Several pictures, then,” Chuck said, gesturing for Cas to stand closer to his sister.

“I want a picture,” Charlie said, bouncing into the background, Dorothy laughing behind her.

“I’ll need one too,” Dean said from where he was standing behind Chuck.

“You’ll get one,” Chuck promised, snapping another picture as Hannah snatched Cas’ cap, earning her a surprised “Hey!”

“Come on Dean,” Cas said, rolling his eyes at his sister and gesturing for Dean to join them in the picture as Charlie pulled Dorothy into the frame.

“I meant one with just you, but okay,” Dean said with a lopsided smile as he took his place beside Cas. Hannah reached behind Cas and placed her stolen graduation cap on his head. Dean made a face at her and transferred the cap from his head back to Cas’. He could hear the camera clicking the whole time.

After a couple of posed pictures, Chuck found someone to take a picture of all of them together. The person seemed in a hurry to get it done, which Dean supposed was understandable. But as Chuck was taking the camera back after the picture was taken, Dean saw recognition flash in the other person’s eyes. He sighed to himself but agreed to a quick picture with her and her friends. Thankfully, everyone else either didn’t recognize him or didn’t care enough to get a picture, and Dean was able to get back to the group fairly quickly.

Cas was wrapped up in some kind of debate with Hannah and Charlie and Dorothy, so Dean took the opportunity to talk to Chuck.

“He doesn’t know anything, does he?” Dean asked, his voice quiet enough to not draw attention.

“Not that I know of,” Chuck replied, mirroring Dean’s tone.

“Good,” Dean said with a nod. He wasn’t sure if the information was comforting or not, but he did know he was still nervous.

“He did get a letter this morning about work,” Chuck added. “I’ll let him tell you about that though.”

“Good news?” Dean asked hopefully.

Chuck huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Ask him yourself,” he said, pushing Dean gently in Cas’ direction.

“-if you’re in Boston,” Hannah was saying.

“I’ll have to take you up on that,” Dorothy said, to which Charlie rolled her eyes.

“I feel like I walked into something important,” Dean said, stepping up beside Cas. Dorothy and Charlie and Hannah didn’t seem to notice.

“Hannah’s friends with someone who can get cheap Red Sox tickets,” Cas explained.

Dean felt like that only cleared up half of what was going on, but he was prepared to accept it. “I heard you got news about work,” he said, changing the subject.

Cas turned and grinned at him. “I got it,” he said. “So in the fall I can start working on my masters _and_ start helping on research.”

Dean let out a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding. He wrapped Cas in a hug. “I’m proud of you,” he said.

“And I’ll be with you,” Cas added, nuzzling his face close to Dean’s neck.

Dean smiled, holding Cas tighter for just a moment. It’d been Cas’ idea to move out to Kansas, though Dean insisted he didn’t mind moving to Connecticut. But Cas had found an opportunity he liked, and they had found a little place for themselves a few months before, when Cas had been out to visit for Dean’s birthday.

“Hey, you’re still coming to the show tonight, right?” Dean asked, pulling back from Cas but not quite releasing him.

“Of course,” Cas replied, smiling. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Are you comfortable with me talking about you?” Dean asked abruptly. When Cas gave him a confused look, he added, “You know, the tabloids are going nuts, because they keep seeing us, but I never tell anyone anything. I’d like to just talk about you a little, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay,” Cas said, brow still furrowed in confusion.

Dean nodded. He dropped his hands to Cas’ and rubbed his thumbs across the backs of them. “And if I asked you to come on stage with me, would that be okay?” Dean asked, looking down at their joined hands. He tried to keep his voice light, but he was afraid he sounded nervous.

“Yes,” Cas said, if a little warily. He ducked his head to try to meet Dean’s gaze. “Is everything alright Dean?”

Dean nodded again, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Yeah, Cas. Everything’s good,” he said, lifting his eyes again so he could look at Cas’ face.

“You aren’t going to ask me to sing with you, are you?” Cas teased gently, unsure what to make of Dean’s sudden jumpy mood.

Dean laughed at that, releasing the tension he’d been holding. “No, I’m not going to ask you to sing,” he said.  “Not unless you want to.”

“Hearing you sing is enough,” Cas said with a bright smile. “I’ll keep my singing to the car, where it’s safe.”

“And up here,” Dean reminded him, tapping a finger against his temple.

“And up there,” Cas agreed, reaching out to cover Dean’s hand with his own. He was bumped off balance and into Dean when someone rushed by him; the crowd had thinned a bit, but there was still a sizable gathering.

The girl who had run into him turned and apologized quickly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Cas assured her as she turned and continued on her way.

“It’s probably time we got back to the car,” Dean said, his arms still around Cas to hold him up.

“Probably,” Cas agreed, righting himself.

“We should all grab lunch,” Charlie suggested, pulling the attention of the entire group back together. “Since we’re all doing our own thing tonight, we should celebrate together.”

It took a bit of debating to finally land on a place everyone could agree on, but Cas was glad they all had some time to celebrate together, since it was looking like it would be a long time before they were all in the same place again. And since Cas was moving to Lawrence with Dean, he wanted to spend as much time with everyone as he could while he was still in Connecticut.

*~*~*~*~*

Dean’s heart was beating like a drum.

Sure, there was the adrenaline of the performance, but Cas was seated in the front row, beaming up at him. And as the end of the set drew closer, Dean felt his nerves start to get to him.

Dean had driven Cas with him to the venue after they’d changed clothes after lunch. He loved having Cas with him, but their close proximity had kept Dean on edge as he thought about later, about moving and everything that might come with it. Somehow, having Cas with him all day made everything seem real.

Benny and Jo and Aaron had told him several times that they’d understand if Dean was too nervous to go through with what he’d planned. They told him they were sure Cas wouldn’t mind. But Dean had made sure everything was right and everyone was there, so he was going to follow through, dammit.

And that was why, when the last notes of the last song were dying out and the crowd was cheering, Dean felt his heart pounding painfully in his chest. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled at the crowd as he set his guitar on the stand just behind him, hoping he still looked relatively normal despite the fact that his fingers felt tingly. He glanced down at Cas and winked at him. He saw Cas smile back at him, but several people seated _around_ Cas also cheered. Dean didn’t care; Cas had seen him.

Dean took a steadying breath, surveying the crowd until he found Charlie and Chuck and Dorothy. He was pleased to see that Gabriel and Kali had managed to make the trip down and join them as well. Charlie shot him a thumbs-up, and only a row behind Cas’ family and friends were Mary, John, and Sam Winchester. Dean tried not to look nervous as he nodded toward the group.

“Alright, alright,” he said as the last cheers died away. He glanced around at the crowd, hesitating. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Benny, who jerked his head to the side in a ‘well, get on with it’ kind of way. “I’m going to go off script here for a second, because there’s something I want to say.”

The crowd cheered, and it did nothing to still the butterflies in Dean’s stomach. He glanced over at Cas again to find his soulmate watching him with a curious smile. “It’s something I’ve avoided saying, for a while. But I don’t think I can avoid it for much longer, so…” He trailed off, trying to get a read on things. The only thing helping him was that he’d rehearsed this about a thousand times in the past few months. “I wanted to tell you guys about Cas.”

More noise from the crowd, and Dean waited for it to die down. Of course everyone recognized the name; it had been in gossip magazines since Dean had told the group of fans the year before. And since January, when Dean and Cas had had an unfortunate run-in with a journalist who happened to recognize Dean and who hounded them for an hour and a half until they finally lost him in traffic, people had had a new interest.

Dean smiled at the crowd – a little amused and a little nervous – glancing back at his friends for support. Benny nodded with a slight smile that looked more like a slightly amused smirk, and Jo and Aaron smiled at him, urging him on.

“I know you know he’s my soulmate; that cat’s been out for a while,” Dean continued. “I’ll spare you the details, but I met him here – in Hartford.”

More cheers, and Dean heard someone behind him laugh.

“I guess we know who’s from Hartford,” Jo joked, pulling a laugh from the crowd.

“I mean, we’re _in_ Hartford,” Aaron said, as if Jo needed reminding.

Dean nodded, and took another steadying breath. He knew they were trying to lighten the mood, but he was still nervous. He kept one hand on the microphone and the other on the stand to keep them from shaking. “He’s here tonight, actually,” he said, glancing over at Cas to read his reaction, but Cas just wore the same curious look he got when he was trying to piece something together; Dean could practically see the gears turning in his head. “And I want to invite him up here, if he’s okay with that.”

Dean wasn’t sure at first if Cas had been able to hear him over the crowd, but after a moment’s consideration, Cas stood and walked toward the stage. There weren’t any stairs to get up, so Dean walked to the edge and got a hold of Cas’ hands to help hoist him up.

“Thank you,” Dean said, voice pitched low.

“I trust you,” Cas said, squeezing the hand he hadn’t yet released.

Dean walked back to the microphone so he could continue to address the crowd, but he didn’t release Cas’ hand. Not yet. “He’s gracious enough to come up here, and I think that says something for how well he puts up with me,” Dean said, speaking into the microphone but watching Cas. He grinned when Cas rolled his eyes. “He’s been teaching me sign language too,” Dean added, dropping Cas’ hand so he could sign along with what he was saying. “I think I’m getting good at it.”

Cas laughed at that, but it seemed to be a buildup of nervous energy at being in front of such a large crowd. _You are very good_ , he signed back.

“He says I’m very good,” Dean translated with a laugh. He still remembered sitting in the dressing room backstage a year before, when Cas was a fan he’d just met. “Better than a year ago, I guess.”

Cas laughed again and nodded.

“The last year’s been wild, you know?” Dean said, still addressing both Cas and the crowd, still signing along. He’d been practicing and, dammit, he was going to sign this correctly. “But he stuck with me – through two tours and through living hundreds of miles apart. And we’ve got a good plan, for right now.” Dean was watching Cas’ reaction, and he could almost pinpoint the exact second Cas figured out what was going on.

“Dean?” Cas whispered, his voice curious, hopeful. There were whispers in the crowd too, an undercurrent of noise.

Dean glanced over at the crowd, found their friends and family. They were watching intently; Hannah had a camera. Dean smiled at them, and turned to address Cas directly, though he was still talking into the microphone. “It’s a good plan,” he continued, “because we’re going to be together.” There was a chorus of ‘aw’s from the crowd, but Dean ignored them; he’d finally found his rhythm, and he was going to see this through. “It’s a more solid plan than I’ve had for just about anything else. But I’d like to change it, just a little.”

Cas was letting himself believe it now – Dean could tell in the way his eyes had gotten misty. The crowd was getting excited too, and the undercurrent of noise was turning into a riptide.

“Cas,” Dean said, but he spelled out _Castiel Shurley_. “Will you marry me?”

The audience cheered even before Cas answered; the question was what they were excited for. But Dean wasn’t satisfied, and he ignored the growing noise and watched Cas, with a face that was hopeful and open and more vulnerable than he ever let it be on stage.

Cas was frozen to the spot, his mind working in slow motion. He ignored the noise from the crowd, focused totally on Dean in front of him, on the expectant look on his face and the way he was wringing his hands now that they had nothing to say. _Castiel Shurley, will you marry me?_ The words rattled around in Cas’ head again and again.

It was only a second or two later, but it felt like an eternity, when Cas finally nodded, his voice failing him. _Kiss me_.

Dean grinned and wrapped his arms around Cas, pressing their lips together hungrily, which only drove the noise level in the room even higher.

*~*~*~*~*

After the noise had died down and Dean closed the show, the curtain fell and Cas had him in a tight hug. “How long were you planning that?” he asked.

“Since January,” Dean admitted, and he felt Cas’ arms tighten around him for a moment before he pulled back.

“I can’t believe you,” Cas said, laughing wetly. He wiped quickly at his eyes, and fuck if there weren’t happy tears waiting to fall down Dean’s cheeks too. “Does anyone know?”

Dean nodded, rubbing his eyes. He caught a glimpse of the stage door opening over Cas’ shoulder, and he smiled. “They know,” he said, nodding toward their guests.

Cas turned and laughed again when he saw everyone approaching them. Even Benny, Jo, and Aaron had gotten their instruments put away and joined them. “You knew about this?” he asked.

“Of course we knew,” Chuck said, stepping forward to congratulate his son for the second time that day.

“Dean’s been putting this together for a long time,” Mary added, smiling proudly at her son as she crossed to him and kissed his cheek.

“But I thought… Earlier, you said…?” Cas struggled to find the words he was looking for.

“We _can_ put on a show,” Dorothy said. “We wanted it to be a surprise.”

Cas just nodded, dumbfounded. He glanced at Gabriel with a surprised, curious look.

Gabriel shrugged. “We couldn’t leave until this morning,” he said. “We would have seen you earlier, but it didn’t work out like that. But I’d be damned if I’d miss _this_.”

“I thought your feet were getting cold for a minute there,” Benny said, clapping Dean’s shoulder.

Dean shook his head and reached out for Cas’ hand. “Not for this.”

“ _And_ it’s all recorded,” Hannah chimed in, holding up her video camera.

“You will never live it down, you sap,” Jo teased, and she and Sam laughed at the look Dean gave her.

“Sue me,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“You can be a sap,” Cas said gently, causing half the group to laugh and the other half to nod in agreement.

“I shoulda known you’d take their side,” Dean said, squeezing Cas to his side.

“He can’t help that we’re right,” Sam said.

Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You’ve been hanging out with Jo too much, you know that?”

“Don’t pin his behavior on me,” Jo protested. “I haven’t seen him in a year and a half. Great minds just think alike.”

“But fools seldom differ,” Cas finished.

Jo put on a hurt look. “I thought we were on the same side.”

“I’m on my own side,” Cas shot back.

“And I’m on his side,” Dean said, squeezing Cas’ shoulder affectionately.

“He was on our side a second ago,” Sam pointed out.

Dean couldn’t help it – he laughed. Everyone was getting along and joking, and he couldn’t have asked for a better outcome for the night. Sure, there were still people to call, and at some point plans would need to be made, but right now, surrounded by friends and family, Dean didn’t think he could be happier.

The night ended quickly after that, with a promise for everyone to meet for lunch the next day in New Haven. Dean stopped by his dressing room on the way out to grab the few things he’d left in there.

“This is surreal,” Cas said from the doorway.

Dean glanced up to find Cas watching him, a look of wonder on his face. “Good memories?” he asked.

Cas tilted his head and thought for a moment before he decided on, “Stressful memories.”

Dean laughed. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” he asked, beckoning for Cas to join him in the room.

“No,” Cas said with a slight smile, stepping into the circle of Dean’s arms. “But I was terrified. I didn’t know what to say.”

Dean smiled and stepped back enough that Cas could read his hands. _I can hear you_.

Cas grinned, wide and gummy, and signed back, _I love you._

“I love you too,” Dean said, stepping forward again so he could wrap his arms around Cas.

Cas sighed happily against Dean. “Kiss me?” he requested.

“Forever,” Dean promised, and he kissed Cas slowly, gently, trying to show him what words wouldn’t allow him to say.


	25. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that signed conversation is written in _italics_

Dean readjusted his cufflinks for about the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. He straightened his tie in the mirror, though it was already immaculate. In less than ten minutes he was going to be outside in front of his friends and family, reciting vows with Cas.

“You’re going to be fine,” Aaron said from his place in the corner.

Dean nodded. He knew it was true, but an entire flock of butterflies was swarming in his stomach.

It was a late spring day – perfect for a wedding. The sky outside was a perfect blue, and a light breeze wandered lazily through the venue. It had been three years since Dean proposed, and it had always seemed like there was something keeping the wedding from happening. First it had been that Cas had too much work to do and couldn’t get a day off. Then the band had had their first international tour and life was too hectic. That, along with little things like scheduling conflicts, had continued to push the date back. Not that Dean minded; the wedding was more of a formality at this point anyway.

Dean took a steadying breath, glancing at the clock again. There was a knock on the door, and Sam poked his head in. “You almost ready?” he asked.

“Almost,” Dean said, motioning for Sam to come in. “You can leave the door open,” he added.

“Almost everyone’s already outside waiting,” Sam said. “Everything’s in place.”

“I know,” Dean said, his voice uncertain, brushing nonexistent lint from his sleeves.

“Don’t listen to him,” Aaron said to Sam, standing to join them. “He’s ready.”

“I’m sure,” Sam said, crossing the room to his brother. “Nervous?” he asked, an amused smirk on his face.

“Yeah,” Dean replied, straightening his jacket, wishing he could think of something to do with his hands. He heard Sam snort at him, and he turned a glare on his brother. “The more shit you give me, the more shit I’ll have to give you when you and Eileen tie the knot.”

“I would expect nothing less from you,” Sam replied with a grin, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

There was a knock on the door frame, and the three of them turned toward the sound to find Jo standing there. “You ready?” she asked. “I was sent to find you.”

“I’m ready,” Dean said, taking a breath to steady himself.

*~*~*~*~*

Cas shifted from one foot to the other anxiously, tugging at the hem of his coat and fiddling with the volume on his hearing aids. They didn’t help as much now, and his doctor had finally said there wasn’t anything they could do to continue to improve them.

“Stand still,” Gabriel said. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Pardon me,” Cas said sarcastically, dropping his hands.

“Oh, leave him alone Gabriel,” Balthazar said, standing up from his seat to inspect Cas’ tux. “How do you always manage to fuck up your tie?” he asked, reaching out to straighten the article in question.

“ _You_ tie one when your hands are shaking,” Cas countered.

“Sassy Cassie,” Balthazar _tsk_ ed, having to completely redo the tie. “I swear, every time I see you dressed up, your tie is lopsided or backwards.”

Cas glared at him, but there was no malice in his gaze. “Maybe I like it like that.”

“Alright Cassie,” Balthazar said, tightening the knot. “There. Perfect.”

Cas sighed impatiently, shifting his weight again. He glanced up at the clock. “It’s almost time to start,” he said fretfully. He knew that once the ceremony had started, he’d be fine; it was just the waiting that was getting to him.

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” Gabriel called as they all turned to see who it was.

Hannah opened the door and offered a small smile. “Everyone’s ready when you are,” she said.

*~*~*~*~*

Dean thought he might hyperventilate. He was standing across from Cas, his hands folded in front of him, in front of their friends and family. He smiled nervously at Cas as the ceremony started, and Cas flashed him a reassuring smile.

The ceremony wasn’t very long, but Dean felt like it was dragging. This wasn’t like on stage, where he was performing and in charge of what was going on; here he was participating in something someone else had laid out for him, and he was stuck between wanting it to last forever and wanting it to be over and done with.

Dean was pulled from his thoughts when he heard the justice of the peace ask for him to recite his vows. He took a deep breath, wringing his hands for just a moment before he began. _Cas_ , he started, _for a long time, I had trouble accepting that I’d ever get to meet my soulmate._ Dean paused and smiled while Cas wiped at his eyes; Dean hadn’t told him he’d be signing his vows instead of speaking them.

_I was worried when I met you_ , he continued. _I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Maybe I still don’t. But I love you – more than I thought was possible. And I promise to make sure you know that, even if I have to remind you every day for the rest of my life._

Cas laughed softly, wiping at his eyes again. Of course he knew Dean loved him; he doubted it was possible to ever forget that.

_I love you too, Dean,_ Cas started; he didn’t trust his voice to obey him at this point. _I was terrified when I met you. The next day, I was sure I’d dreamed meeting you._ He smiled when Dean laughed and scrubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. _I can’t tell you how happy I am that it wasn’t a dream, because now I have you, and I love you. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you._

Cas took Dean’s hands in his when he finished, offering a soft smile. He was vaguely aware of the call for the rings, and he turned to accept his from Hannah when she tugged on his sleeve. He repeated what they wanted him to say, and the smile he wore while he slid the ring on Dean’s finger made his cheeks hurt, but he didn’t care. And then there was Sam, handing Dean the other ring. And then Cas also had a plain gold band on his finger.

Cas kept his eyes on Dean’s face through the last few minutes of the ceremony. He wasn’t really paying attention to the ceremony anymore. He didn’t think Dean was either. Not until someone said something about a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading! This was super fun to write and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.  
> More will be added to this 'verse as time goes on, but in the meantime, you can [drop me a line about it on tumblr](http://me-sorta.tumblr.com/ask) if you want. Comments on the work itself are also greatly appreciated!


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